The Purpose of Polyjuice
by Dekaying
Summary: With the use of Polyjuice, Draco Malfoy escapes once a month from the consequences of his Death Eater days. She was not supposed to be his anchor.
1. Chapter 1

This story is inspired by the Wizarding world of the great JK Rowling. I do not own her characters.

Draco Malfoy lived a desolate life by necessity. The deluge of perpetual hatred of which he was a prime target was only too ironic. Parts of him knew it was unjustified, but the remorseful side of him could not ignore the possibility that he must suffer for atonement.

But he was a Malfoy and a Slytherin, and neither identity left room for self-pity or humbling (at least not publicly). That was why, once a month, he would apparate into Muggle London, pluck a hair from a strapping young lad, and become him for the night. It was his only escape and view of a normal life. He even perfected an American accent for a cover story. So very few witches and wizards traveled to that uncivilized country, and if they did, the place was so large he could always claim to be indigenous to some obscure small town of which no one was familiar (including himself).

With such a plan, he had successfully used the Polyjuice potion six times, and because seven was a wizard's lucky number, he decided to stray from his routine and do something he had always wanted to do, but his parents found too plebeian-sit among the common, poor wizards during a Quidditch match. As much as he enjoyed watching the game with his father in their private box, he found his curiosity about immersing himself within an excited, chanting crowd linger longer with each match. The idea of disguising himself and attending amongst the ordinary spectators sprung at the most perfect time. He secured a seat for the pre-season international league friendly between Puddlemere United and Toyohashi Tengu that Friday night. It was five days away. Impatience greeted him every morning.

Thursday he was met with some Half-blood he supposedly knew, who promptly spit in his face after asking if Draco remembered his Muggle mother. Calm and collected, Draco walked away with a stoicism few could conquer, especially under such duress. His appearance of nonchalance angered the spitter to an exponential degree, and he charged at Draco's back. Before he could turn to cast, Draco heard a feminine voice command, " _Protego_!" Unsure of whether the cast was for him or the Half-blood, he silently cast a shield charm of his own. The Half-blood fell back by the power of a double protection spell. The voice revealed herself from the shadows, wand pointing at the fallen wizard. Draco was taken aback from the recognition. She pushed a strand of her bushy hair that had flown into her mouth away, and approached the wizard cautiously.

"Hermione Granger, why would you protect him?" The flummoxed wizard asked from the ground.

"You were about to attack a wizard unaware. Wizard duels exist for a reason, Doug."

"That's _Draco Malfoy_ , you daft witch! He deserves anything that comes at him!" Doug made to move but Hermione's pointed wand commanded obedience.

"He has been tried and punished for his crimes. You do realize your behavior is everything we fought to exonerate in the Second Wizarding War? I suggest you stop perpetuating hatred." She flicked her wand up, as if commanding him to stand. He obeyed. Draco observed the scenario and had little time to piece together all the conflicting information he was witnessing. Granger was supposed to hate him, not defend him. Didn't she know his ostracism was an acceptable norm outside the pure-blood circle?

"What luck, the bitch of the Golden Trio works for the MLE, or I would show you how wrong you are." Doug was glaring at her, but Hermione appeared unaffected by the threat.

"Threatening an officer in the MLE is not wise, Doug. You really ought to stop adding to your list of wrong decisions. Turn around and walk away. Collect yourself and think about where your anger really lies. If you want help, I know places you can go. Spitting on Malfoy won't bring your mother back." Hermione's wand was still raised. Apparently she did not trust him to make a calm decision. Draco quietly readied his wand as well.

Then the unexpected happened. Doug collapsed to the ground and began sobbing uncontrollably. Hermione rushed to his side and held him. Draco stood dumbstruck and nonplussed. A moment more of the confusion dominated his thoughts before he apparated away. Escape was always his first choice, even if the infallible Hermione Granger was there to protect him.

Friday finally arrived, and Draco used his lunch period to apparate into Muggle London. It took less than half an hour to find the perfect candidate for the night. The Muggle was tall, with a similar build to himself. He was handsome despite his dark hair and dark eyes, but he had looked for a blonde and found none with a build he approved in the vicinity. (Draco never could remember his physical attributes while disguised and more than once had almost cast at himself when glancing at his reflection.) He bumped into the Muggle and pulled out a few hairs while excusing himself and walking to his apparition point.

Everything about the Puddlemere stadium was new to him from the commoner's perspective. The long lines and pushing from all sides he could live without, but the constant chanting, "Beaters show your buggy whips, it's time to beat the elephants!" enthralled him and filled him with anticipation he had never felt before. He looked around and found a group of wizards wearing red and white kits featuring Naumann elephants chanting their own Quidditch cry in Japanese. He wondered just how many of each side could speak the other's language. The ambiance and energy was infectious, and Draco found himself truly smiling for the first time in years. The muscles seemed greatly used in the body he possessed, and in the back of his mind he envied the Muggle, who apparently had many opportunities to smile.

Eventually Draco found his seat. He had come an hour early eager to absorb some of the happiness of the crowd he often observed from his box seats. The atmosphere trumped all his expectations. Even when four very familiar forms appeared in the row immediately below him, Draco could not contain his contentment. He found the Golden Trio and Weaslette relatively easy to ignore, when he was not in his own form. That was one of the bonuses to Polyjuice, he could not only look different, he could _be_ different. Tonight, he would be an American who was an avid Puddlemere fanatic and had traveled across the ocean to see his favorite team. He had been practicing his accent all week.

Draco had been too busy watching the crowd and enjoying the pre-match chants to notice the Golden Trio being accosted by their own fans until Hermione, who was seated in front and to the right of him, fell backward over the seat. She grabbed his Puddlemere kit in an attempt to break her fall. Draco immediately reached for her arms in defense before realizing he should instead gently right her awkward position. She met his eyes as he held her forearms and blushed before acknowledging his helpfulness with gratitude. To her sides, Ron and Harry were politely chastising their fans. Draco did not realize that was possible. He nodded to Hermione as acceptance and stood back up in his spot. She looked at him a second longer before turning around. Once the back of her bushy head was in full view, Draco smirked to himself over her apparent attraction to him. The assumption was confirmed as he observed her glance back at him thrice in his peripheral. The malicious side of him wondered how far he could exploit the attraction.

But then the two sides appeared on the Quidditch pitch, and the raucous of the crowd drowned any internal conversation he had entertained. He was here to create a happy memory. One he had coveted for some time and one that he would need to recollect in times of despair. The gains from the match far surpassed any physical desire, especially from a bossy, do-good, bushy haired know-it-all.


	2. Chapter 2

The decrescendo of noise caused from the singing of the anthems moments before made Draco a victim of eavesdropping on the conversation below him. "Look, Harry, it was just as you predicted!" He noted that the Weaslette seemed to worship her beau.

"Where?" Potter asked with equal excitement. He pulled his Omnioculars to his eyes before exclaiming, "Ron, look! Miyama is flying the Kyapucha!" Draco could not to suppress his trademark smirk at their enthusiasm. His father had purchased the newest, coveted broom specifically designed for the Seeker off the black market only a few weeks ago. After all, he demanded the best of the best despite his deficiency of friends or acquaintances with which to play a pick-up game.

"Just like you predicted, Mate!" Gryffindors seemed to shout relentlessly when excited. Ron, easily a foot taller than Hermione, shouted above her. "Where is Dafydd Bale? What's he riding?"

"Nimbus 3000! The whole lot of them!" Ginny yelled past Potter and Granger to her brother. "Those brooms don't go on sale until next month!"

"Isn't that what your team is test flying right now, Ginny?" Potter asked. Draco had forgotten the Weaslette played professionally for the Holyhead Harpies.

Their conversations seemed of little interest to Granger, Draco noted, as she nudged Ron to switch seats. Now the Weaslette, Potter, and the Weasel were together, but their voices remained at maximum volume. Draco pulled his Omnioculars to his face and observed the players himself. The Japanese team had a strategy so simple he could not believe the English had not thought of it already. Each of their players had a broom custom made for their positions. The Kyapucha was the fastest broom on record, and its air resistance charms were kept top secret by the manufacturing company. Beaters sported a thicker, heavier broom for better balance while hitting Bludgers. Chasers all rode the newest version of the Firebolt, much to his surprise. He was zooming in on the Keeper's broom when he lowered his Omnioculars upon the feeling of being watched, and made eye contact with Granger. She quickly averted her eyes and began bending her back, as if she was trying to look around him for someone. He was not fooled.

The energy of the crowd fed him, and Draco realized he had yet to sit, but no one around him sat either. In the Malfoy box, sitting was done immediately following the anthem. Discussion prior to the anthem revolved around politics, and conversations during the game remained declarative, not exclamatory. All this yelling across and over, in front and behind each other seemed savage, and he was enjoying every moment. This was how Quidditch was supposed to be; he had been denied the pleasure far too long. The whistle blew, and he immediately noticed the Puddlemere United's Chaser grab the Quaffle as the others flanked him to form a Hawkshead Attacking Formation toward the Japanese Keeper. The Seeker (Dafydd Bale) trailed, floating in one place, eyes searching in all directions for the Snitch.

"Harry, you really have to thank Wood for these amazing seats. We couldn't afford these with our- Whoa! That Japanese Chaser is cobbing Lorenzo! Hey Ref, call the foul!"

Draco could not contain his enthusiasm as it grew with every yell around him. Some bits of conversations he could decipher were scrambled all together as such: "Ginny, you're going to have to come up with some crafty plans to get past Puddlemere's Dobblebeater Defense come season time."

"Did you see that move from that Japanese Chaser? What is that called?"

"Ten points to Puddlemere United scored by Chaser Sage Grosbeak! Her first for the pre-season!"

"Foul! Call the foul, Ref! That was obvious stooging! Is the Ref blind?"

The yelling all around him finally encouraged him to join in on the stadium chant, "Beat back those Bludgers, Boys, and chuck that Quaffle here!" The echoes reverberated through him. Draco could not remember a happier time.

The game ended within the second hour when the Japanese Seeker Miyama caught the Snitch (despite a very convincing Wronski Feint from Bale). As Draco lamented with the crowd around him, he noticed the Dark Mark ever evident on his forearm. With the speed of a Seeker, he pulled out his flask and drank more potion. He would have to make a Remembrall for himself the next time he attended a Quidditch game.

Disappointed fans exited the stadium lethargically, but Draco lingered behind, not yet ready to make the event a memory of his past.

"Oy, Yank, do you want to come and eat with us?" Draco stopped staring at the pitch and followed the trail of the voice. The Weasel, of all wizards, was inviting him to eat. The stares of three others around him inferred that they were _all_ inviting him, and Ron was the mouthpiece.

"Why do you want me to join you?" It was hard, even in his present form, not to be suspicious.

"We noticed you alone," Potter interjected. "We thought it would be fun to add a new voice to our after-match debates. Hermione here," he said pointing to Granger on the far end, "doesn't usually contribute. You would be a welcomed opinion."

Draco considered the pros and cons to congregating with Gryffindors. In the end, it was his deficit of good Quidditch conversations that had him nodding affirmatively. His arch nemesis from another life led the way out after introductions were made. He assumed the name Leo.

Granger slowed to match Draco's pace before commencing a friendly conversation. "As I was so eloquently introduced before, my name is Hermione. Do you live around here?"

"No." Although he had little interest in conversing with the witch that bested him at Hogwarts, he remembered her attraction to his current physical state and decided to play the role of a charmer. "It is my first time to visit Wizarding Britain. Do you have any suggestions as to places that could fill unknown voids in mind and spirit?" He thought it was too much, but she appeared to be blushing. Seducing Granger was too easy.

Discussions, as premeditated, revolved around the friendly. Ginny's focus was more about Puddlemere United's performance, understandably. Ron was impressed by the unknown moves of a certain Japanese Chaser. Hermione, as predicted, participated little in Quidditch topics. It was Harry with whom Draco engaged most animatedly. Perhaps it was their shared experiences playing Seeker, or perhaps they just shared common perspectives of how the game was to be played. Nonetheless, the conversation flowed so fluidly, that Draco had to excuse himself to the loo in order to take another swig of Polyjuice Potion. Upon return, he regretfully realized his absence was enough to signal the end of a very long, but highly enjoyable night as the others stood around the exit door. He summoned his scarf as the group of Gryffindor friends began laughing. Confused, Draco turned to the raucous to discover he was the instigator. Hermione (while laughing with her eyes closed) was grasping rather tightly a Puddlemere United scarf that wished to be elsewhere. He joined in the laughter with his temporary friends and accepted the scarf as Hermione handed it to him. The moment capsized an already pleasant time. He could not suppress a curiosity of whether their friendship on display tonight was real, or a farce set up for their "American" guest.

With drunk good-byes made, Hermione took it upon herself to escort the foreigner. Draco, it seemed, was alone in his sober state as she wrapped her arm around his for support to walk. He found that in his current euphoric condition, having the know-it-all touching him was not repulsive. Besides, when she only contributed instead of dominating a conversation, she was not so bad to be around.

"Was the night worth the trip?" She asked him, leaning her side heavily against his every other step as they walked toward the local Floo Network.

"Every penny," he replied.

"Penny?" She hiccupped.

"Think of it like a knut." He really did not need to pretend so convincingly; her inebriated state left her quite deficient of keen observation.

She hiccupped before responding, "You're a nut. So, do you have a girlfriend back across the ocean?" She hiccupped once more.

"Granger, you can barely speak with all the hiccupping. Let's just enjoy the beauty of this night and its natural accompaniment."

She hiccupped again before once more retorting, "The natural accompaniment meaning not the sound of my voice, or yes you do have a girlfriend?"

He sighed, "I do not have a girlfriend."

The swiftness of her reply showcased a premediated thought. "Well then, you can help me remedy my hiccup problem." With that she turned and faced him, and while tiptoeing kissed him. He returned the kiss briefly before realizing the recipient was a witch with whom he held no attraction. Draco pulled her back and held her at arm's length, examining post kiss Hermione. She was smiling, of all things, and looking at him lustfully. "I have wanted to kiss you almost since I first saw you."

Draco let out a staccato laugh of disbelief. "And why is that?"

"You don't know what it is like, being a celebrity. I can't trust any wizard. But tonight, I had this strange draw towards you, and being in your presence all night has only strengthened it." She moved her arms to release his hold of them and stepped forward, splaying her hands across his chest. "It's something about your presence," she said before tiptoeing up to kiss him again. This time Draco returned her kiss, feeling the need to reward her for her flattery. It only tempted her further as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself taut against him.

Despite his lack of attraction toward the witch, Draco could feel the body he was in reacting to her lustful behavior and it alerted him to end their actions. He pulled her away gently. "I need to go, or I will miss my means of transportation."

Hermione was not deterred. She slid her hands down and cupped him below the belt, smiling at the hardness that greeted her. "Maybe that is part of my attraction to you. We have only tonight—why not top it all off with wild, meaningless sex?"


	3. Chapter 3

Draco understood the need to escape, but he also understood the law. He mentally reminded himself of _Magical Law One:_ _Means and Method vs. Intent and Result_ - _It is not the goal of Magical Law to restrict the witch and wizard in their magical means and methods of attaining an end goal, contingent upon the intent and result of magical use is not harmful to others with whom it is subjected and contingent upon the means and methods strictly following magical rules and regulations applicable to the use._

Draco understood means and method versus intent and result quite well. In this case, it meant he could use Polyjuice to hold a conversation in disguise, but to use the disguise to garner sex from an unsuspecting war heroine would most likely put him in Azkaban if he was discovered. Knowing his luck, he would be discovered.

As she caressed his lower region, his mind began to relinquish its hold on _Magical Law One_. He began to justify intent as servicing a witch in dire need of a good shag, no strings attached. She began to pull his belt toward an Apparition point, giggling. "I can't believe we are about to do this!" When they reached the point, she swung her body into him and began snogging him, most ardently. Upon release she said, "Would you believe me if I told you I have never done this before?"

"What, sex?" Draco asked, incredulously.

"No! I'm talking about a one-night stand." With that, she wrapped her arms around his shoulder and with a crack, they disapparated.

Draco immediately recognized the place as Granger's despite never being in her flat before. Books were everywhere, as if she had decided she needed to practice transfiguring. He imagined her coming home from work, looking at an apple on her table and thinking, 'Nope, I think it should be a book.' He let out a low chuckle, but it did not escape Hermione's notice. "What is so funny?" she asked as she tripped on her own pile of books on the floor by her couch.

Draco examined her on the floor in lieu of helping her to her feet, ever the prat he was at Hogwarts. "I believe, Granger, you are so inebriated, you will not remember this escapade come tomorrow afternoon when you wake with a pounding headache." Her current state would cloud her memory and proved an ally to his growing need for release. She was not the only one in need of a quick fix.

She pulled herself up, giggling before focusing on the male body before her. "Well then, I have just the potion for that. Let me drink it now." With that she walked over to Draco and once again aggressively and possessively stroked specifics parts of his body. "I believe I will want to remember this. Something tells me you will be a fantastic shag."

As she walked with little grace to her room, Draco could not contain his curiosity about the war heroine with the pure public image. He yelled at her through her walls. "Know a lot about fantastic shags, do you?"

She emerged from the other room, wearing a red, tight, revealing negligée. For the first time that night, Draco found he desired _her_ , Hermione Granger, the know-it-all bushy-haired witch. His eyes traced her form and he moved his hand to adjust the growing bulge in his pants.

She smirked at the sight of his discomfort and walked toward him. Immediately, Draco could tell the difference between the drunk, stumbling witch moments ago and this commanding, seductive one before him. As she began pulling on his Puddlemere United kit, she answered his crude question. "As a matter of fact, no, I don't know a lot about 'fantastic shags.' I've only ever been with one wizard, and we did not do it often before we severed the relationship. That's why you really need to give me a memory worth reliving before you go back to the States. I need this."

"Granger are you serious?" He placed his hands on her hips and slid them to her backside, giving both cheeks a soft squeeze. He began to slide them up with intent to fondle her breasts he was now examining through the red lace when she stepped back from his hold. His eyes moved up to see a wand pointing directly at him. "What-"

"Who are you?" Her voice was cold. She continued to step away from him, grabbing a throw-over she had on a chair and wrapping her body to renew her modesty.

"I don't understand." He said, confused.

"You called me Granger."

"I've been calling you Granger all night."

"Yes, but I was drunk!" She said, unconsciously lowering her wand.

"What does that have to do with anything?" He made one step toward her, but her wand returned to its prior position.

"I introduced myself as Hermione. I don't recall telling you my last name. How did you attain it?"

"Granger-"

"Stop calling me Granger! _Incarcerous_!" Draco fell to the ground, bound tightly by ropes.

"What the bloody hell! Let me go!" He struggled on the floor against the ropes to no avail.

Hermione levitated him to a chair before explaining her actions. "There is no spell to reverse the effects of Polyjuice, but I am certain, with the accent you are currently sporting, that you are no American. You will sit quietly and obediently in this chair until the potion wears off so I can see who you are."

"Bitch," he spat.

"Bastard," she replied. Then she left to her room. Draco presumed it was to change, which meant he had little time to think of an escape plan. If he was discovered in her flat, the amount of consequences ranged from possible incarceration (ironically) to extreme humiliation. He searched the room for his wand, and a way out of this mess. Damn her sober brain.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Dear Reader, please forgive me for not explaining how Draco escapes Hermione's flat. After much deliberation, I realized it will be a better story if you find out how he did it when Hermione does, and that is a few chapters away.**

He would have to remember Granger was a perceptive witch. A compliment lessoned by his faux paux, but one which still held truth. As he cast a Disillusionment charm over his still Muggle form and walked down the darkened street leading away from her flat, he glanced back at the light from her window. He observed the entrance of a frantic silhouette, wand waving and released his breath in relief of his timely escape. Draco massaged his wrists, sore from her tightly bound _Incarcerous_ cast and continued his path without a second glance to what he left behind.

A new month came, accompanied by a new Muggle form. This time, Draco chose an older man, one with whom he did not believe would draw the attention of sex-starved witches. With the events of last month at the forefront of his thoughts, he chose to experience a quieter, solitary environment. A bookstore, though coveted, was out of the question; the odds of seeing the bushy-haired witch were too favorable. With careful deliberation, he chose to eat his lunch at the Water Gardens while reading a book. Draco looked at the pathetic form in front of him. The wrinkles on his face spoke of a hard life, a societal deterrent for any unwanted extrovert choosing to spark a conversation. A small glimmer of a wish flittered in his head before it was pushed aside. He would never be able to be himself in public without harassment; the Muggle form was a necessity.

The Water Gardens met all his expectations, and then some. Draco chose a seat complimented by the shadow of an old oak tree, with full view of the magically crafted waterfalls in the center of the landscaped gardens. It was a favorite place of his mother's, but with the post-war Malfoy reputation, it was not to be visited. He pushed the unwanted memories deep within him and opened his lunch before beginning his anticipated read. The solitude afforded him was much appreciated as he was able to finish the book in one day. The pages served as an hour glass, keeping track of when he needed a drink of Polyjuice, and upon completion of the book, he had nothing left of his potion. Draco stood, stretching his tired, old body before gathering his things and making his way to an Apparition point. He had about half-an-hour left of Muggle form. Apart from the Quidditch match, this experience had been his favorite.

The morning following his latest Muggle excursion left Draco wanting. The day before had filled him with a much desired, but temporary peace. He decided he had yet to have his fill of it and would continue the experience monthly. He made his way to Flourish and Blotts with the goal of securing a new, satisfying read, and with a lapse in forethought that to avoid a certain witch, he should patronize a bookstore in another country. As he scrolled down the Quidditch aisle, he heard a familiar voice which brought back unpleasant memories.

"I was looking for something grand. Something that says 'Look at how much I care.' Where are your most expensive books?" Draco struggled to suppress a demeaning snort at the witch's request. He could not believe his former self had escorted her to the Yule Ball. His taciturn smirk was all he allowed himself as he continued searching for an interesting Quidditch book. He allowed his hands to trace the spines as he combed, a pleasure so small it was too meaningless to mention to anyone. But then he felt eyes upon him, and when he looked up, he saw the one witch he wished to avoid more than Pansy. She was on a balcony overlooking the bottom level where he stood. Her hair pulled tightly in a bun, desperately trying to claim ownership over its usual unkempt look. She was leaning over the railing and staring at him. Just staring. He glared at her, silently cast a repelling charm in her direction, and continued on with his mission. Draco wanted to forget all about her, but he found himself sneaking glances her direction on occasion. He was relieved to find that her previous interest in him was no longer applicable. His repelling charm must have worked. Unfortunately, there were _two_ witches he wished to repel in that bookstore, and he had the misfortune to be discovered.

"Well, Draco, it has been a long time. How are you?" Pansy stood before him, and with her direct question, he could not escape without first entering in conversation.

"I am the same as always, Pansy." He nodded curtly at her.

After examining his form, she turned to the books around them before smiling flirtatiously. "I see you are expanding the Malfoy library. It looks as though you are adding your personal touch to the rich Malfoy heritage. I am glad."

"The book is only a light read. The Malfoy library harbors books which perpetuate continued knowledge in philosophy, magic, and of course, all things Malfoy. A book must have meaning before it can find it's home in a place as grand as the Malfoy library."

They stood in judgmental silence before Pansy ended the conversation. "Duly noted, Draco. I must be off."

As he watched her walk out the door to Flourish and Blotts, another unwanted, feminine voice manifested itself behind him. "Light reads are not a bad thing, except they fall short in one of the greatest pleasures a book can offer."

Draco chose to ignore her, and walked to another aisle. As curious as her statement was, he was not desirous of looking at the witch with whom he almost had sex—a witch he did not sexually desire save that one weak moment she appeared before him in the revealing negligee. He shook his head, trying to shake the memory. He did not want to talk to her. Unfortunately, she followed him. As he traced the spines of books with titles he no longer read, she stood in his path. He did not acknowledge her, choosing to stand in place and pull a book from the shelf in mock interest.

But she was not phased, and whispered, "I hope you find a book to contribute to the _grand_ Malfoy library someday." When he turned to face her, he was met with her back as he watched her exit the bookstore in the same manner as Pansy, with different consequence in thought. Granger was a perceptive witch.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco stood outside a quaint Muggle café in Muggle Wiltshire. He chose it for the name, not the food or reputation, as the word _Honeystreet_ was much more inviting to a wizard with a fondness for sweets than a _Rowdey Cow_. He would not lower his standards to patronize either café; no Muggle food could possibly appease a wizard's palate.

He scouted the area, looking through his platinum blonde fringe whilst pretending to read. Although an older body held many advantages, he had no desire to rush the ailments of old age again. The Water Gardens held its own sense of peace and he felt secure that selecting an image of his liking would not hamper a similar experience. His grey eyes were drawn to a blonde man with a tall, Seeker build. With a swiftness and efficiency derived from eight previous encounters, Draco secured the needed hairs and left the Muggle scene.

Eagerly, he sat in the same spot, same bench, and reminisced at the same view and smells of the month prior before opening his book to the first page. Once again, the flipping of pages denoted the marking of time. He was halfway through reading a controversial chapter about the advantages of clobbing when he was interrupted.

She said nothing, did nothing to favor his attention, save join him on _his_ bench. Draco could not believe his misfortune. Granger could go anywhere, yet she frequented _his_ areas of solitude. He only hoped in his current form, that she would not find a need to converse. The thought reminded him to take a swig of his potion. As he uncapped his bottle, he glanced at Granger and was relieved to find her immersed in her rather thick book. He took it as a good omen that she had no intent to stray from her current state, and he followed her example.

They sat in silence save the occasional sound of rustling leaves, the zealous turning of a page, and of course the constant flow of crashing water. Draco wished it could be like this always. With a good book and a nice ambiance, he escaped everything his life had become. Finally, as the sun began to take its gift of light from him, Granger turned to him and said, "Thank you, I had a lovely time." She closed her thick book with a loud thud and walked away. He watched her leave in utter confusion. She never looked back.

Draco sat alone on the bench in deep contemplation of everything Granger. She commanded dominance of his thoughts after her performance only a moment earlier. Only two of his prior (school days) observations about the Muggle-born still held truth. She still held a fondness for absorbing knowledge through the medium of solitary reading, and she still, _still_ could not cast a proper hair charm. With all other faucets of her personality he was at a loss. Her reticent company today proved she was capable of keeping her know-it-all mouth shut. He found, over the past few years, that he had a fondness for those who had mastered the gift of not speaking. It was an attractive quality. The idea brought forth the image, once again, of her in her red lace. Once again, he shook his head to rid the memory. He was not attracted to Granger, the bushy-haired-know-it-all, who was also perceptive, enjoyed the comfort of quiet reading, and invited peace.

He racked his brain for the last thought. Granger would never bring him peace.


	6. Chapter 6

The Muggle excursions were carefully organized on the ides of every month. Draco discovered transforming into someone else held the privilege of being the only day worth experiencing, and he found he would rather it not be the start of the month, nor the end. It was metaphorical, though he never noticed.

The next month, Draco found himself uncertain. He was not yet done basking in the peace the Water Gardens offered, yet Granger meeting him there was too eerie, too coincidental. "Thank you, I had a lovely time," echoed in his head daily. He decided it was best not to frequent the place again. Leave it to Granger to ruin any hope of escape from his worthless life.

The tenth time Draco used Polyjuice, he was in the form of a dark-skinned, ebony-eyed, short Muggle. The age and athleticism seemed the only characteristic he shared with his physically opposite form. His plan was simple; he had no plan. With Granger foiling him twice, he decided to leave their encounters up to fate. He apparated to Diagon Alley and walked into Quality Quidditch Supplies for no reason in particular, other than to browse. As he was looking at packaged Snitches, he was once again accosted by a familiar voice. "Hello. I couldn't help but notice you went straight for the Hephaestus brand. This is a faster Snitch meant for serious players. Are you perhaps one of the new transfers for mid-season?"

Draco snorted, put the packaged Snitch back on the shelf and rudely turned his back to the employee before perusing the broom aisle. His hands fluttered over a displayed Nimbus 3000, feeling the magical energy. He was relieved to feel a lack of wizard presence following him. At least Ravenclaws understood when they were not wanted. Draco took his time in the shop because he could, and finally backtracked to the Nimbus 3000. He had the Kyapucha, but to own the top two Seeker brooms in the Wizarding World was not an opportunity he wished to pass up. He grabbed the Hephaestus brand Snitch as well, and made his way to the counter.

"Will this be all, Sir?" Roger Davies asked.

"Yes."

The former Ravenclaw captain rang up the order, and after exact currency was exchanged, asked the disguised Malfoy, "I couldn't help but notice you know your way around Quidditch supplies. Are you good?"

Draco smirked. "Yes."

"We need a Seeker for our pick-up game tonight. It has to be at night because I don't get off 'till five. The players are composed of old school chums, but we all were serious players at one time. You interested?"

Draco observed Roger, and tried to think of any reason he should not join a group of Ravenclaws playing one another. He never really had issues with Ravenclaws. "Where?"

Roger chuckled at a joke Draco did not catch. "We will play at a location where the energy from competition feeds the plants beneath it." He finally met Draco's eyes. "Yeah, I thought that too. Here," he said as his voice faded under the counter, "this is a Portkey. It is scheduled to go off at half-past five, so be ready." He handed Draco a wrapped item. "My name is Roger Davies."

"Leo." Draco nodded his consent and left the store.

Because his Polyjuice was limited, he spent the remainder of his day as himself, until 5:20 when he promptly drank the potion, changed, grabbed his gear, and touched the glowing Portkey.

"Leo, glad you came." Roger walked over to him the moment he landed. Draco looked around the unfamiliar area. Roger chuckled. "Our friend, Luna, picked the location. She mentioned all these sorts of benefits for some plant here, but we just saw a great open field, perfect for a Quidditch pitch." Leo observed the accuracy to his assessment. He recognized a few of the Ravenclaws setting three posts before he saw them, and all his optimism fled. The wild bush she called hair was in full fluff as a strong breeze blew it to the left while she cast a spell on a post. The red-head was casting a spell around another goal post, her hair pulled back tightly, and Potter was working his magic around the third post.

Draco sighed, and turned to Roger, who met his eyes at the same moment. "That," he said, pointing at Harry, "is why we need a good Seeker. I hope my assumption about you was not mistaken. I am really tired of losing to those Gryffindors, and with Cho gone, we didn't have much hope."

"How often do you play?"

"We play about once every other month. It's hard to schedule games when so many of us have such demanding jobs."

"Yeah, that shop must keep you up all night."

"Hey now!" Roger seemed affronted, but he was also chuckling. "So I am a Chaser. I'll introduce you to the others in a minute, but let me just point out a huge imbalance to our little game. See that red-head practicing speed drills? Yeah, she plays professionally. Not fair to play against us amateurs, but we forgot to set parameters on who could or could not play, so our fault, really. She can set us back with her constant scoring assaults, which is why you need to end the game quickly. Which brings me to Harry."

Draco looked over at Harry as he began practicing warm up dives and twists. "What do I need to know?"

Roger laughed. "Oh man, are we in trouble. So you don't know what _The Chosen One_ can do? Well, he doesn't fall for any tricks, so don't bother with mind games." Draco snorted, and Roger stopped speaking to glance at him quizzically before continuing. "He seems to zone out, as if he was only playing against himself. At least I think that is how he does it, from what we have observed."

"We?"

"My fellow Ravenclaws. Cho knows him best, and was able to offer the most insight." He paused for a second before he said, "If Ginny doesn't get us, then Harry does. They are a double threat. You are our secret weapon, so please tell me your display of arrogance at the shop was not unfounded." The fire in Draco's eyes was all Roger needed for confirmation. "Come, let me introduce you to the others."

It was already 30 to nil within the first fifteen minutes. Ginny appeared unstoppable, and by the rate she was scoring, he would need to find the Snitch in under an hour to come out on top. Then, as luck would have it, he saw it, behind Potter's head. Draco immediately leaned down flush to his Kyapucha, and with a speed unequalled by any other broom on the pitch, he flew towards Harry. He suppressed a laugh at Potter's expression upon viewing a speeding blur heading straight at him. Then, momentum changed as Potter seemed to realize what Draco was doing. He turned, and saw the Snitch fluttering. Potter was closer, but Draco was faster. Draco also had more to prove, and that extra motivation was what led him, and his temporary team, to victory.

On the ground, he was lauded with congratulatory pats and exclamations, and Draco absorbed it all with much alacrity. This had never happened when he played for Slytherin, but then again, he had other worries during his time at Hogwarts. Chants of his glory transformed when the opposing team approached. Harry walked over and held his hand out to Draco. Ginny was hugging some of the opposing Chasers.

"That was some skill out there, Mate." Harry was smiling at him. The image frightened him a bit. It felt so wrong.

"Yeah, well." He shrugged his shoulders and shook Potter's hand.

"Leave it to you Ravenclaws to give us an element of surprise. What year are you?" They dropped their handshake.

"I'm not a Ravenclaw."

"Oh. Did you attend Hogwarts?"

"Durmstang."

"Oh." Harry glanced over his shoulder as Ginny approached from behind.

"This is new for us, losing that is," she explained. "I'm Ginny."

"Leo."

Ginny began to giggle uncontrollably at nothing, it appeared. Draco observed Harry's expression, which confirmed they shared that conclusion. "Well, Leo, I don't know if anyone told you, but the losing team has to buy the winning team butterbeers and firewhiskey. We've never lost before, so…Harry, can you spot me?" With that she pecked him on the cheek and flew off.

Harry blushed. "That's my girlfriend. She plays professionally for the Holyhead Harpies. They are having a great season so far, and it is getting to her head a little. She hates losing, you see." Draco nodded. "Come on. The losing Seeker has to buy the winning Seeker drinks." As everyone mounted their brooms, Draco took advantage of their distraction to drink more potion.

Inside The Three Broomsticks, Draco found himself surrounded by those he would never grace with his presence in his true form. They chanted, they cheered, they congratulated and they were so touchy. Slytherins did not celebrate in such fashion, and he was uncertain of which he preferred. These Ravenclaws and Gryffindors were enthusiastic and happy, but their means of showing it was intrusive. He didn't need the constant hitting on his back, and rubbing of his shoulders. But at the same time, he couldn't help but bask in the affection. Perplexity claimed him, and he needed a moment away from the raucous.

He made his way to a stool at the counter, sipping his firewhiskey. As he took a calming breath, an unwelcomed feminine voice approached him.

"You know, that special broom of yours is not easy to attain. Tell me, did you travel to Japan to buy it?"

He sighed and put his glass down, turning towards her. "No."

"Oh really? Well then I suggest we keep that as our little secret. Purchasing the Kyapucha is only legal in Japan. I'm Hermione, by the way." She held out her hand and smiled at him.

"There is no secret between us." He stared at her empty hand, unwilling to touch her.

"No?"

"Nope. I know you think you are clever, but my father bought me this broom while _he_ was in Japan." He turned back forward and picked up his glass.

"My apologies." She sat in the stool beside him. "My friend tells me your name is Leo. You are the second Leo I have met in the past two months. Both times involved Quidditch." She chose to ignore his obvious body signals.

"Well, not much of a coincidence, is it? The world is full of Leos." He took a disinterested sip of firewhiskey. Granger had a way of ruining his peace.

"Hmm. Maybe you are right." She tapped her fingers against the counter and Draco could feel her examining him. "Well, great game, Leo. Maybe we will meet again. I like to go to the Water Gardens. You should join me sometime." She winked at his surprised expression and finally gave him the solitude he sought. But not the peace.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I would like to thank _Sampdoria_ , _roon0_ , _hey a-town_ , _4fanci_ , _dramione143_ , and _Msashleyz_ for the kind reviews. _I was BOTWP_ , here is the chapter you have been waiting for. I hope I don't disappoint. **

The next morning, he was there before the sun rose, on _his_ bench. There was no way he would let it appear as if he was approaching her. He felt naked and exposed sitting there as himself, willing courage to grace him. He opened his book, one he grabbed from his family library without thought, and began the appearance of reading. He pretended for almost an hour, asking himself why he even bothered being there, before she joined him. Just as before, she did not acknowledge his presence, and opened a thick book. They sat in silence, both under the pretense of reading, both unwilling to be the one to break.

"Hey Hermione." Draco looked up to the voice belonging to a wizard he did not know. "I was wondering if you wanted to join us, over there." He pointed to a group of witches and wizards on a blanket in the grass closer to the water falls.

"No thank you, Lor, I wish to read in solitude today. I'll join you some other day." She smiled at him before returning to her open page.

Lor shifted his stance before glaring at Draco. "Hermione, I know how immersed you can get when reading, so I will be blunt. You are sitting beside _Malfoy_. Why don't you come join us?"

Hermione looked surprised and faced Draco for the first time. "Oh, hello Malfoy. I must admit I did not realize you were sitting here. We _both_ must have been immersed in our intriguing literature. Do you mind if I sit beside you and read in quiet solitude?"

Draco raised an eyebrow before answering, "No." He immediately returned to his book. Never before had a story been so falsely interesting.

"Hermione," Lor whispered, motioning with his hands that she follow. From his peripheral, he could see her shake her head. Lor walked off.

The scene was not enough to break their silent contract. They sat in the company of cool breezes, the sound of crashing water, and rustling leaves for an unknown amount of time. It felt much longer than it actually was.

Finally (as Draco knew it would happen), Hermione's curiosity could no longer be contained. With her nose still in her book, she asked in the quietest of voices, "Are you not curious why I sit here?"

He smirked to himself, behavior tantamount to hers, and replied, "Not at all."

She huffed at his answer and he let out a quiet chuckle before they renewed their embargo on conversation. It did not last long; Hermione's curiosity had to be sated. "How did you escape?"

"Granger, you know the story."

"No, I don't, and I would really like to know."

"Well, your perfect friend, Potter, testified at my hearing and—"

"Merlin you are infuriating!" She slammed her book shut and turned to face him on the bench. He peeked at her over his book. She grabbed it away from him before he could protest the action, saying, "Don't even pretend like you are affronted. We both know you were not remotely interested in," she flipped the book to the cover to read it aloud, "Corvus Malfoy's diary." Malfoy was about to contradict her but she was quick to the draw. "I really need to know." She inhaled to calm herself. "How did you escape?"

"Escape what?" He had turned to face her as well.

"My flat. The first time I met you as Leo."

"Oh, you mean the time you threw yourself all over me begging for a 'fantastic shag?'" He was smiling cruelly at her.

She blushed, but was not deterred. "I mean the night we _both_ decided we needed a good shag. Your hands were on me as well, _Malfoy_."

Their eyes met, equally fiery, before he grabbed his family diary away from her in an attempt to return to their previous behavior. "Don't even think about casting a binding spell on me again, Granger." He turned his body back to facing forward on the bench and covered his face with his book.

She allowed him almost a whole minute of pretension, then said, softly and teasingly, "If I bound you again, then I would get to see how you did it." She was tapping her wand noisily-threateningly-against her book.

Draco lowered the diary and stared at her action. He sighed. "I will answer you if you promise to leave afterward." She nodded her agreement. He sighed and covered his face again. "I wouldn't be able to repeat the escape here."

"Why is that?" she questioned, leaning closer to him.

He paused. "Because your furry beast isn't around."

"Crookshanks helped you?" She slapped her hand to her forehead. "Merlin! I would have _never_ guessed!"

"Obviously," he muttered. "He brought me my wand. Now go away." She made to leave when he realized he wanted something more from her as well. "Wait." She looked up from him as she continued to gather her purse and book. "How did you know it was me? Was it because I called you 'Granger?'"

She sat back down. "That was one clue, but not the definite answer."

"How then, Granger? You owe me an answer."

She smiled mischievously at him. "Actually, all I owe you is my absence." She moved to stand again, but he grabbed her hand. The touch sparked something in her as her expression changed. He let go. "I will answer if you promise to stay on this bench and talk to me for the next hour."

Draco clenched and unclenched his jaw. "How did you discover it was me?"

She smiled genuinely at him and explained. "It was simple. You escaped through the use of my double-crossing pet. I found out because of my double-crossing pet." He gave her a look of utter confusion. "When I returned to the room (after changing into something more decent), you were gone. I was furious, and in the midst of casting all the revealing spells I could think of, Crookshanks rubbed against my leg, purring. It calmed me down, and when I lifted him up for a hug, he presented me with a dark hair. It did not take long for the dark hair to turn platinum blonde. That was my second clue, but I was still in denial that I came so close to having sex with you." He stared stoically at her as she blushed profusely. "I brewed the Polyjuice Potion, but it takes time, as you are well aware." Draco recalled how his first trip to the Water Gardens was sans Granger. "I added your hair to the potion, but even then I did not drink it right away."

"Scared, Granger?" He smirked.

"No, not scared. Cautious. I had a bad experience with a potion once before involving a cat hair…" Her voice trailed off as she stared past him. He tried unsuccessfully to think of a potion that involved cat hair. "Anyhow, I took a tiny sip, and when I saw your reflection in my mirror, it confirmed my fears."

He snorted. "Please, Granger. You were all over me, grabbing me boldly like a common tart."

"Please stop," she whispered, with her eyes closed. "I was lonely, Malfoy. Let's just forget how I behaved." Then she regained her strength and glared at him. "Or should we mention the fact that you were purposely going to break _Magical Law One_?"

"Fine. We won't talk about either of our behaviors that night, alright?"

"Fine. But you still owe me an hour of quality conversation."

"I'm a Malfoy. Everything we do is quality. And it's less than an hour." He knew their fighting was petty, but other than Quidditch talk with Potter, he had not had many opportunities for a normal conversation. "How did you know I would be here? The first time?"

She smiled again. Granger was having too much fun showcasing her intellect. "I will tell you, but it will cost you another hour."

He studied her face. She couldn't stop smiling as she studied him in return. She was a puzzle. He understood her need for intimacy, but Granger could have any wizard. He never once solicited her company, and yet she seemed to seek him out. He didn't understand. He couldn't.

"How?" he asked.


	8. Chapter 8

Draco had too many questions, and she was unwilling to answer any more related to Polyjuice unless it was over dinner. The Slytherin in him laughed at her surprise ability to manipulate. He complied willingly, though outwardly he put on a display of helpless victim. He still did not desire her, but she possessed something he did covet—honest companionship. He agreed to send her a Portkey to a restaurant of his choosing, for the next night.

She promptly arrived, as Portkeys do not allow anything but, and Draco raked in the sight of her form on full display. Granger, it seemed, thought this was a date. He decided to clarify. "Granger, our arrangement was I pay for dinner and you answer all my questions. No more, no less."

She smiled wickedly at him. "Malfoy, based on our previous conversation, you said everything you do is quality. I assumed picking a restaurant of _quality_ would entail I dress appropriately for entrance. Or did you assume I did this for you?"

They both chose to ignore one another's comment as he opened the door. The host led them to a darkened, secluded corner of the restaurant. They sat, and before Hermione could even open her menu, Draco took it from her and handed it to their waiter. "We will both have my usual."

The waiter walked away, and Hermione glared at Draco as he avoided eye contact. "You said nothing about ordering, Granger. The next time you make a deal with someone, be sure to set all the parameters." He took a sip of water and looked around. His brashness left her speechless, but her body language spoke volumes as she crossed her arms tightly.

"Duly noted," she finally said.

"Now, I believe you agreed to answer all my questions in relation to Polyjuice. Shall we begin?" He put his glass down and met her eyes.

Hermione glared at him a moment longer, but Draco could see the shift in her eyes from anger to plotting. Her body loosened and she grabbed the cloth napkin and busied herself with proper manners before responding, "Yes, I am ready."

"That night you used the potion to become me, you said you took only a sip. How long were you me?" He wanted the appearance of disinterest, but Granger had anticipated this line of questioning and wished to make him suffer.

"It was long enough." She looked at him and smiled coyly.

Draco huffed and leaned forward, his voice menacing. "Granger, how many minutes?"

"Minutes?" She asked with a fake innocence.

"Yes, how long—how many minutes were you me?"

"Oh, I apologize, Malfoy." She let out a laugh. "I thought you meant how long. You know," she crudely eyed his crotch, " _how long_?"

Draco huffed in impatient anger as she laughed at his awkwardness. "Granger, please act your age."

She calmed herself before replying. "I was just trying to expedite the conversation. I mean, that is what you really wanted to know, correct? You wanted to know if I examined myself while I was you?" His face reddened, and Hermione had her answer. "Sometimes you Slytherins take forever to get to the point. I did not want our whole evening to be about you backhandedly inquiring if I saw all of you."

It was Draco's turn to glare, but he chose to target his glass. He had lost control of the conversation and it irked him greatly. Of all things taken from him, his wit had been what he kept, what allowed him continued pride. Now Granger was stripping him of that.

"No," she replied calmly. "I did not look at your body, Malfoy. I didn't do anything I wouldn't want someone doing if they were me."

He looked up at her shocked. "What did you do?"

"I saw you in my mirror, and a thousand thoughts accosted me. I was embarrassed that I hit on you, overwhelmed and disgusted that we could have had sex, and most of all, intrigued." She took a que from him and split her conversation by taking a sip of water before continuing. "I was so curious why you would ever agree to sleep with me, no matter how strongly I advanced myself."

With her pause, he entered the conversation. "That was obvious, Granger. Your only shag was the Weasel and he couldn't deliver. You wanted to know what a _fantastic shag_ felt like." He smirked, feeling in control of the conversation again, when she surprised him.

"And would you have delivered?" She looked at him earnestly. When he made no response she continued. "Would you have been able to give me an unforgettable orgasm and made my inside pulse in remembrance of it the following day?" Her talk was beginning to move him. Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair. She smirked at him. "Wizards are such talk. I would doubt any of them could please a witch except Ginny's stories about—"

"Stop." Draco hissed. The intensity of his voice commanded her silence as she looked at him, surprised. "I really don't need to hear about Potter. It's bad enough everyone worships him."

They sat in welcomed silence. Eventually, the waiter returned and placed identical bowls before them. "What are we eating?" she asked.

"I don't know." He looked down at his bowl of orange broth full of clams, mint and red peppers. The aroma of coconut was a welcomed greeting.

She paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. "How do you not know? You said 'the usual.'"

"The usual means whatever the chef wants to create for me, as long as it is not on the menu." He tasted the delicacy and was not disappointed. He couldn't decipher her expression as she watched him.

"Is this a luxury only gold can buy, or can a regular witch like me make the same request?" She tried the soup. "Mmm."

Draco watched her close her eyes in appreciation and let out a staccato laugh. "You need to stop trying to separate us by class. I am fully aware of your powerful social status."

"Ah, but I am not rich." They each sat in silence mandated by the enjoyment of the food before them. After a few more bites, Granger continued their conversation. "I use a repelling charm, you know. That is the only way I can keep them away. It is much like the one you used on me at Flourish and Blotts." He looked up at her, but she was busy filling her spoon with broth. "I think I understand your purpose for Polyjuice. It was the same reason why I hit on you that night, when I thought you were an American I would never see again." This time she did meet his eyes. "We both don't have to become hermits, Draco."

Hearing his first name escape her lips birthed a courage he had yet to embrace. "I don't think we are the answer for each other's problems, Granger."

She examined at him, thoughtfully. "No, perhaps not." He looked at his nearly empty bowl and was spooning the last remains. "But we could have a little fun as we search for our answer." His quizzical brow prompted her further explanation. "The next time you use Polyjuice, take me with you. We could pretend to be a happy tourist couple."

He studied the witch before him. Her eyes never faltered as he examined her face. Granger was lonelier than he could have ever imagined. "Is this why you are so relentless, Granger? You want me to be your pretend boyfriend? You can't find a real one?"

She closed her eyes and he could see he had pained her. "I don't trust anyone."

He let out an incredulous laugh. "But you trust me?"

She opened her eyes and stared into his. "I've been watching you. Yes, I trust you."


	9. Chapter 9

The day before the ides, Granger accompanied Draco to a frequented stop in Muggle London. As they sat in observation of innocent patrons, he wondered the same curiosities he had for the past few weeks. Why him? What makes him so trustworthy? His curiosity, however, would have to wait to be appeased; he would never directly ask her for her responses. While thinking of what paths to take to backhandedly secure her answers, his thought was interrupted by the witch before him.

"What about those two?" She nudged her face in the general direction to her left, his right. He turned and immediately saw a tall blonde and shorter brunette huddled in an intimate conversation.

"Are you choosing them for their remote likeness to us, or because they are a couple?"

"They look like us. The fact that they appear to be in a relationship is coincidental."

"Granger, no Muggle will ever remotely resemble you, (Draco was studying the couple too acutely to see the small blush cross Granger's cheeks) because no Muggle will be able to replicate whatever wild hair charm you have placed atop your head." He turned to face her in time to observe her annoyed expression.

"How do we do this?" Apparently her annoyed expression also came with hands on her hips.

"We? Granger, you are on your own. I'm not going to link myself to you if we are caught by Muggle authorities."

She snorted at his comment to which Draco raised a quizzical brow. " _Muggle authorities_ won't apprehend us for plucking a hair off someone's head."

He turned to face the couple again to avoid giving her the satisfaction of his ignorance before crossing the street in the Muggles' direction. He was hesitant to reveal his trick in front of Granger, but he had no other choice. He bumped into the Muggle, and while apologizing dramatically, plucked a few hairs. He then walked off to find an Apparation point. It was a few minutes more before she joined him. As he watched her walking toward him, she commented, "I always knew you were overly dramatic, Malfoy." He chose not to respond to her condensation. "Where will we meet tomorrow?"

"You mentioned being tourists. What did you have in mind?"

She smiled and replied, "I wouldn't mind going to the Witches' Stone in Antrim. I've never been."

He studied her before acknowledging. "I have three hairs. That's approximately six hours. How many hairs did you secure?"

"Three as well. Let's meet at 2:00 at the round towers, drink the potion so we can acclimate to our new bodies and faces, then stroll in as the tourists we are." She smiled again, then walked away. Draco watched the movement of her bum in her Muggle jeans and wondered how he would be able to get rid of her.

The following day, they met as planned, drank as planned, and observed one another as planned. When they were assured that they would be able to maintain their farce, Draco led the way to the Wizarding city of Witches' Stone. Upon entering the highly trafficked Magical District, Hermione wasted no time in securing his arm. He looked at her accusingly, but she quickly explained her action in a forced whisper. "This place is highly populated. We might lose one another."

"Would that be such a problem?" He chose not to whisper, and sounded very much like his father at that moment. Granger must have thought the same as she immediately released her hold. He felt a twinge of guilt in his behavior, but it quickly passed when she threw her body at him. "What in Merlin's left b-"

"That wizard almost hit me!" she exclaimed. Draco turned to watch the young wizard as he nearly missed several other innocent bystanders while struggling to control his Nimbus 3000. "They must not have very strict broom laws here. Otherwise he would not get away with such reckless flying in a public area."

"And where might you be from, Miss High 'n Mighty?" The two turned to the voice and saw a cross witch with her arms on her hips. Draco held back a smile at the thought that all witches must have the same pose when angered. (All witches save his mother.) "You strike me as one of those witches that like to rain on others' parades. That is my son you are talking about."

Before Granger could respond, in what Draco could only assume would be inappropriately, he wrapped his arm around her in hopes that his move would stun her silent long enough for him to intervene. It did. In an American accent he replied, "Our apologies, Madam." He looked at the boy, still flying uncontrollably and continued in a bored observation. "He seems very enthusiastic. Was the broom recently purchased?"

The witch's hands remained on her hips. "Actually, it is borrowed."

The air of pride in her voice combined with her common dress robes confirmed an assessment Draco made several times over in a past life. He used to mock and bully the poor. Now, as a wizard searching for a new identity in post-Wizarding War Britain, he decided to respond differently. He took his arm from Hermione's shoulders and pulled out a small bag from his inside robe pocket and reached inside, retrieving his Nimbus 3000. "Would your son like to have one of his own?"

Draco chose not to acknowledge the shocked gasp from Hermione as he stared down the witch. Her body had stiffened, but he knew he would break down her proud wall on behalf of her son. "And why would you be giving away free, expensive brooms?"

"Your son is crap at flying. One can only guess it comes from lack of practice on a quality broom. Consider it a favor. The more he practices, the more witches and wizards will be safe from harm."

The woman stared at Draco long and hard, then turned to watch her son as he nearly crashed into a wall. "I'll take it."

Draco levitated the broom to her, but before it was within her reach, he gave one ultimatum. "He can have it under one condition—he practices in an open field instead of being the pestilence to others that he is now."

She huffed and extended her arm to grab the broom. She gave Hermione a rude glare and Draco a curt nod before walking off in the direction of her son.

"Oh Darling, that was a lovely thing you did!" She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and kissed him briefly on the lips.

Draco pushed her off him immediately.

Looking hurt, Granger walked up to him and whispered, "That is not staying in character. What boyfriend would shove his girlfriend away when she is kissing him?"

"A fake one." He began to walk down the street, looking at what the shops had to offer.

Hermione trotted to catch up to him before saying, "Was it a fake Draco that so graciously gave that woman a very expensive, highly coveted broom?"

Draco immediately stopped in his path and turned to stare down Hermione. He grabbed her arms and shook her while saying, "Listen here, Granger. It was no act of goodwill that I gave him my broom. The child was a nuisance to _everyone_ , and his mother is oblivious to even the basic of parenting skills. As with everything, I bought them off. Giving him that broom was nothing. I could buy thousands of Nimbuses and not even dent my account at Gringotts." He released her with a tiny shove and began furiously walking toward a shop he hoped would not disappoint. He really needed a fix.

Granger snorted from behind him when she realized where he was heading. He stopped and she ran into his chest when he turned to face her once again. "Of course our first stop is a candy shop. I see nothing about you has changed." He returned her glare before they both entered Furry Toad's Sweets.

They exited with Draco carrying close to a pound of tooth decaying delicacies and Hermione none. He looked at her curiously, but decided not to ask, because sucking on a butterbeer flavored lollipop held precedence. Occupied, he followed Granger blindly into a small restaurant. The waitress eyed Draco's sweets and the lollipop in his mouth before leading them to a private booth. He was too preoccupied with his newfound sweet to notice their silence.

"I know it is all fake, you know." Her voice was low, and she was looking at the wand in her hand.

He removed his lollipop. "Do you?"

"Yes, of course I do. Technically, we have never even kissed, since it has never been our true bodies touching."

Draco smirked. "Do you want a real kiss?"

Hermione did not appreciate the taunt. "No. I think you would know if I did."

"Oh yeah, how so?" He sat back in his chair.

"Because if I wanted a real kiss, I would have kissed you already." They sat in a shared silence as he watched her profile. She was busy looking out the window.

"Are you sure about that?"

She turned to face him, convince him with her serious expression. "I'm not attracted to you, Malfoy. You are arrogant, egocentric, and condescending."

He leaned forward and pulled the almost finished lollipop from his mouth. "You forgot trustworthy."

Her eyes widened for only a moment before she collected herself. "You don't know what I mean when I say I trust you."

It was his turn to be a surprised, though he hid it well with the action of biting the remainder of his candy. He knew she would continue without him asking. Granger was predictable, and she liked to explain things, as if she knew it all. He smiled when she began to speak again.

"I have been watching you, observing you. You don't know what to do with your life. You are the same prat I knew at Hogwarts, but now you know your behavior holds consequences, so you channel yourself. I trust you to not want to sleep with me so you can claim you were with the war hero. I trust you not to use Polyjuice potion for devious means. I trust you to be predictable." She was leaning forward, massaging her forearm as she spoke.

Draco watched the action, but he was too affronted by her words to understand why she would comfort herself in such a manner. The waitress appeared, and Granger immediately said, "We will both have whatever the chef wishes to make us." The waitress laughed at her, and Draco took a sadistic pleasure in her discomfort and embarrassment.

"We will have two specials, please," he said, winking at the waitress. She nodded, smiling, and walked off. He turned to Granger, whose face was red. "I think it best you leave the ordering to me when we go out."

She snorted. He was beginning to despise that snort. "I thought my revelation would end these meetings between you and I. You have never responded well to criticism."

"Well then, you don't really know me as well as you think you do. You are the one that can't take criticism."

She looked at him sincerely and smiled. "There it is."

It was not long before two identical plates of brown blob were placed before them. Both jumped back when the food appeared to move. Neither knew what the food was, but Draco was unwilling to let Granger see him scared to eat something, and Hermione would not back down before Malfoy. As any cowardly witch or wizard would do, they chose to stall the inevitable.

"You consider giving your broom to the young wizard buying him off, but any onlooker would see it as an act of kindness." She poked her fork at the brown mesh on her plate.

"Only the ones that want to see it that way, Granger. If you pay any attention to the act itself, you would realize there was no kindness in it." He blew on his food, acting as though it was too hot to eat.

"What I saw was a wizard giving his very expensive broom to a needy boy." She pushed the mesh around on her plate.

"I wanted the boy and his obnoxious mother out of my way. That was the fastest solution. I will buy another broom tomorrow." He picked up his glass of water and took a disinterested sip.

"Hmm." She put her fork down, eliminating the pretense. "Would you have slept with me, that night?"

Draco was surprised at the abrupt change of subject. "I thought you specifically did not want to mention the topic-"

"No, I specifically did not want _you_ to mention the topic. It is perfectly acceptable that I-"

"Interrupt?" He smiled at her. "Let me finish this time." She huffed and crossed her arms, tapping her wand against her bicep. "I was following your lead, Granger. You wanted it, and I saw no harm in giving you what you wanted. You would have been none the wiser, as I would have never mentioned it to a _soul_ , and I guarantee, I would have left you satisfied." Hermione was about to respond when he quickly added, "And just as now, where it is okay for you to take the lead and discuss a topic you banned me from mentioning, I think it would have been okay to have followed your lead in the intimate department as well. I was not breaking any law by complying to your sexual needs."

"You were completely breaking the law, Malfoy. You knew I did not know who you were."

"Using your logic, _technically_ , I would not have been the one satisfying you, Granger, since it would not have been my d-"

"But it would have been you! All you! It would have been _your_ thoughts creating _your_ body movements!"

He sat back, mirroring her crossed arms and smirked at her. "That is why I think we should not pretend to be a couple on this trip. It is still _our_ actions, even if it isn't our bodies."

"Fine."

"Fine."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Special thanks to 4fanci, Guest, and SereniteRose for the kind reviews. I had quite a bit of fun writing this chapter, so I hope all of you enjoy it.**

Draco expected to see her giant mesh of hair the next day at the Quality Quidditch Supplies shop while he purchased his new Nimbus. He didn't. Her absence (and his disappointment from it), caused him to ponder what he really thought of the annoying little witch. After some reflection, he realized he would rather have her company than not; at least she was someone he could have a discussion or argument with in which the topics were not war related. He sighed at the realization that he was so desperate for friendship that he would resort to a turbulent one with Granger.

He smirked at the thought that she coveted a fake companionship. He could not fathom her reasons for pretending to be in a happy relationship when she could so easily find a real one. It irked him that she labeled him predictable (the fact that he saw her the same did not cross his mind). By the time he left the shop, new Nimbus wrapped and in his arms, he had concluded to pursue Granger's friendship. At the very least, he now had something to do besides work, and plotting his next month's Polyjuice holiday. If only he knew how, or even where to begin.

His inner monologue was interrupted by the shout, " _Confringo_!" Draco had failed to remember his surroundings. His new broom burst into flames as he quickly released it and watched the flames fall to the ground. He didn't bother to look at the caster or the crowd around him as they laughed at their success. He would give them no further satisfaction. He quickly and silently cast _Protego_. When the other casters realized their jinxes were not hitting their mark, they yelled, "Death Eater scum!" before running away. It was at that moment he realized the Ravenclaw inside the shop had treated him like a wizard. Had he been curt and aggressively rude like most witches and wizards, Draco would have remembered to not let his guard down when stepping outside the shop. His thoughts did not have the luxury of occurring as needed. He must be mindful of his surroundings.

Nearly three weeks passed and Granger had yet to instigate a conversation. He expected her to pop up wherever he went, and when she did not meet expectation, he was at a loss with how to continue their correspondence. As the ides was approaching, he decided to owl her.

 _Granger,_

 _I will be visiting the magical district in Paris on the ides. Will you be joining me?_

A half-hour after his owl was sent, Granger's owl tapped at his window. He read her affirmative, and discovered he did not regret inviting her.

On the ides, they met at her place after individually securing their Muggle hairs, and promptly followed the necessary routine. As they acclimated to their bodies and one another, Draco extended his arm to Granger. With her new green eyes, she scrutinized his gesture. "We will side-along apparate, Granger. Unless you know where we are going?"

Her scrutiny ceased, and she assessed his body, smiling coyly. "It is a shame I do not know the real Muggle behind this body. He has quite the physique. I could only hope he has other qualities to match it."

Draco kept his arm extended as he observed himself once again in the mirror. He scoffed. "So you like your men slightly bulky? That explains the Weasel."

"Don't call him that."

Draco turned to meet her eyes before dropping his to rake in her form. "You aren't so bad yourself, Granger. Should we change this excursion to a mission to find these Muggles and seduce them instead?"

She laughed and grabbed his arm. Her left breast brushed against him in the act, and Draco quickly brushed away the fact that he wished it had been her real breast, because then it would be the real Granger. "We both know neither of us would prove successful. You because she would notice something wrong immediately, and I have no idea how to pull off a one-night stand."

Draco had paused, staring down at her. Something about her, he could not explain what, solicited a change in plans. Tonight, he would be _unpredictable_. He would play with Granger, and give her something new. She stopped laughing and glanced up, curiously. "Granger, why don't we just stay here, and spend our few hours in Diagon Alley?" She had no time to answer as he apparated them to that very place.

"Mal-" she began, but had no time to finish as he grabbed her head, holding while he snogged her. It was by no means romantic. He was controlling the kiss, setting the tone for their excursion. He was tired of how easily she took control. When he released her, the fire in her green eyes told him just how much she disliked the act. "Mal-" she began again, and this time he pulled her body taut against him with his left arm and held her head with his right, snogging her fiercely. What began as hard and controlling eased with each moment her body relaxed. And although she did not return his kiss, after a minute her body had relaxed in his hold enough that he ended it.

However, Draco was no fool. He had just kissed Granger twice, both without consent. He would not give her any distance to counter with a physical or magical attack. He released his hold on her head, moving his right hand around her back as his left hand circled her waist tighter. "Darling," he whispered, and inwardly smiled at her shocked expression, "You know how I prefer your pet names. Please refrain from calling me anything else." He kissed her nose, enjoying the speechless Granger far too much.

They stayed in that embrace while Draco observed her. She seemed to be internally fighting with herself. Eventually one side won because she looked up at Draco and replied, "Yes, _Darling_."

With her compliance, he released her and grabbed her hand. She gasped at the action, but he ignored it. "Come, I want ice cream." He led her in the direction of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. As they entered, he released her hand and led her to a private booth in the corner. When the waitress appeared, Draco ordered a salted caramel blondie in an American accent. When Granger ordered her strawberries and peanut butter in an Australian accent, Draco could not contain his curiosity. He waited for the waitress to be out of sight before casting _Muffliato_. "Granger," he whispered despite their protection from eavesdroppers, "I'm impressed. Have you been working on your accent since I last saw you?"

She smiled secretly at him. "To a degree." The waitress returned with their frozen treats, and Draco immediately grabbed his spoon and devoured his first bite, letting out a satisfying groan. Granger laughed at Draco's eagerness. "You are eating your ice cream like Ron!"

The comparison forced Draco to pause his actions. He sat up, held his spoon proper, and glared at the beautiful witch before him. "Never compare me to the Weasel."

She no longer laughed, but a smile remained. "I will not compare you unless it is defensible." With that she took her first bite and the satisfaction of the flavors held them both in silence. Hermione was the first to continue their conversation, as the sweet treat did not have as much power over her. "Tell me, Malfoy, are you always like this with ice cream?" She was observing him with amused eyes.

"I treat ice cream the same way you treat a book." He took another bite, over half-way finished with his serving. "Do you like having someone talk to you while you read?"

She snorted, but not as annoyingly as before. "If we share an interest in the topic, then yes." She was smiling secretly again, but he had no time to think on that as he was finishing his bowl. He looked up to see Granger eyeing his tongue as he licked his spoon clean.

"Granger, why do I always get the impression that you really need a good shag?" To make his point, he licked the spoon in a very suggestive manner. She immediately blushed and looked down. He glanced at her less than half eaten serving and switched bowls with her.

She made no protest, but her comment gave him pause. "Is today's excursion all about your needs? Your controlling snog-which I know had nothing romantic attached-this trip for ice cream, and you finishing my serving…are we doing things today that you cannot do in your true form? Is that what today is about?"

He remained stoic as they assessed one another before returning to her ice cream. "This flavor isn't too bad, Granger. Thanks for sharing."

She scoffed at his remark. "It appears I will be the only one sharing today." She looked to him again.

He did not react to her comment, but her reaction to his stoicism was a scary one. She did nothing and said nothing. It put Draco on edge and forced him to compromise. "You can pick the next place, Granger."

Once the tab was paid, and the _Muffliato_ removed, the two exited the shop. Granger wrapped her arm around his and led him, quite predictably, to Flourish and Blotts. However, as they neared, she steered them right to the stationary shop. Draco had never been there. "Why are we coming here, Gr-" he did not finish as she _attacked_ him with a full on snog.

Just as he began to respond to her tongue, she pulled away, smiling. " _Darling_ , you know how I love your pet names for me."

He tried his hardest to conquer his need to smile, but Granger's eyes, focused on the corners of his mouth, showed he was unsuccessful. "Why are we coming here?" She turned around and headed inside, preferring not to respond. He followed her.

"Good afternoon," Hermione began, in her Australian accent.

The witch behind the counter smiled and nodded. "Good afternoon. How may I help you?"

"My boyfriend and I are shopping for parchment. We have a long distance relationship, you see, and are in need of quality parchment for our amorous needs."

The witch turned her attention to Draco and smiled at him before looking to Hermione once more. "Please follow me." Draco glared at Granger as she once again wrapped her arm in his while they followed the witch who stopped in front of several parchment samples in an almost hidden section of the shop. She summoned two quills, and levitated them in front of the faux couple. "We have two parchment samples here, designed for varying levels of admiration. These specific parchments can be custom made into journals, since your relationship has the strain of distance and owls are not the best means of communication in that regard. You'll also find some levels of satisfaction that messaging via owl cannot satisfy. Please use your quills and write _whatever_ you wish. You will find each parchment sample varies in compliance. I will be behind the counter when you have selected your favorite."

"Darling," Draco began, but Hermione shushed him and pointed to a parchment sample with her quill. He sighed and picked his hovering quill, looking for the matching parchment sample before him. He wrote, _Granger, why are we doing this?_

Hermione let out a staccato laugh as his words appeared before her on her matching sample. She responded and Draco read each word as she wrote it. _I have always wanted to do this, but Harry, Ron, and Ginny are against using magical journals._

Draco couldn't fathom their reason for such an illogical ban on an innocuous magical item. _So why the pretense? We could have shopped without the couple front._

 _The witch behind the counter might have witnessed our interaction outside the shop._

Draco looked up at Granger, but she was too busy studying the parchment, awaiting his next response. He decided to make it unpredictable. _Well, I am glad you did. That way she won't react to when I grab that sweet arse of yours when we leave the shop._

Granger gasped loudly-loud enough that the witch behind the counter looked in their direction before returning to her work. Draco heard Granger's quill scribbling away, so he looked back down at his parchment, and saw the reason for her reaction. There was an animated cartoon drawing of him grabbing her as they left the store. After admiring the spellwork behind what he assumed was highly expensive parchment, he read her words. _I had no idea parchments could do this!_ Then she wrote, _Darling, will that be before or after coitus on the countertop?_

They both let out a fit of laughter as the animated cartoon began to form the image. Hermione's newly formed words read, _Don't get any ideas. I was just curious how far the parchment would go_.

Draco smiled and wrote _Well, Darling, it would be hard to get ideas from this. I am much more imaginative. Should I give it a go?_ He laughed when a large, bolded "NO" appeared. _Should we try the other parchment then?_

The two moved to the middle parchment and made eye-contact. Draco was surprised to find himself enjoying this little activity. He nodded his intent to start, and noticed Granger's eyes shift down to the parchment eagerly. As he moved to write, he saw the beginning of his Dark Mark. _Time to enjoy a drink_. He could hear her taking a swig from her bottle simultaneously, as if they had choreographed the move.

"Food and drink are not permitted in the shop. I will have to ask you to leave." The witch walked over to them angrily. "I guard my parchments carefully and do not tolerate disrespect."

"Can they not be magically cleaned?" Hermione was truly asking out of curiosity, but the witch did not share that perspective.

"I don't know how things are done in Australia, but here, we have a respect towards hard work. If I spent my life perfecting parchment spells, do you think simple cleaning spells will work? Please leave my shop." Draco observed Hermione's surprise at the curt behavior of the witch and realized she was used to preferential treatment. He laughed at the irony.

The witch turned her attention to him, but before she could castigate him he calmly placated her. "Please excuse our ignorance to English customs. I myself have moved here because of its charm and respect to magic. We had not given proper courtesy to the magic behind each parchment. If we promise not to eat or drink anymore, may we continue? I can also guarantee patronage, as even with just one sample we are enchanted." His words swayed her as she crossed her arms, but nodded approval and walked away.

 _What a rude witch!_

Draco smirked at Granger's words. _Now, now, Granger. I have taken care of it. But, now that I think about it, you owe me recompense. My silver tongue needs a dancing partner…_

Granger was standing away from the parchment, tapping the quill against her chin after she read his sentences. _Hmm. It looks like this parchment doesn't draw. I wonder what it can do. By the way, thank you for the reminder._ Draco stared at what he just read, a little off put that she was not effected by his attempt at seduction (even if he did not mean it). He knew she always had her nose in a book at school, but he never realized the extent of her ability to focus on the subject at hand. For Granger, that subject was unearthing what enchantment the parchment held. Granger continued writing. _Perhaps this one is less crude, and has more of a proclivity to romance._ He glanced up at her with a new understanding of why she had only had one boyfriend. _Wait, Malfoy, your sentence was only suggestive, it wasn't direct. Write me something direct and let's see for what purpose this parchment is enchanted._

Malfoy smirked. His lascivious phrasing was extensive, and until this moment, he held confidence in his aptitude for seduction. She posed a challenge. It was time to truly make her blush. _Let's test for boundaries. Granger, I want to lick your nipples hard so that I can see their peaks through your blouse, knowing that it was my tongue that caused it._

He immediately looked up to categorize her reaction, and was content in the rouge color overcoming her face. Satisfied once again in his abilities, he looked down and saw nothing new on the parchment. Granger affirmed his observation. _Nothing is happening._

 _Maybe. You write something to me._ He doubted her words would solicit anything, but he was too curious about what existed in her lustful thoughts.

 _If it didn't work for you, then it won't work for me._

Draco chuckled. She looked up from across their parchments and glared at him. Draco knew the correct word to write. _Coward._ He laughed when she growled upon reading the taunt.

 _I am no coward. I just don't see the logic to continuing a line of investigation if it has already been proven unsuccessful._

 _It was proven unsuccessful on my end, but not on yours. Tsk tsk, Granger. We must investigate all angles. You should know this, as you do work for the MLE._ He stood in silence, staring at the parchment, waiting for her response. _Well?_

 _I was thinking of what to write!_ Draco laughed again, but his eyes remained fixed on the parchment. He would not give Granger the satisfaction of meeting her glare. Finally, words began to form, hesitantly, before him. _I want to snog you senseless._

Draco would have laughed at her simple attempt at seduction, except that he began to _feel_ her tongue in his mouth, just as she had kissed him outside the shop. "Gra-"

"Shh!" she commanded, pointing at her parchment.

 _Did something happen?_

 _Yes. Write something else._

 _Are you just trying to embarrass me?_

 _NO. Write something else._

He heard her huff and then heard the familiar scribbling of quill on parchment. Draco eagerly read her next sentence. _I can't think of anything_.

Annoyed, he commented, _Granger, you are shit at this._

 _I know, okay. So what happened on your end? What did you see?_

 _Granger, I want to rub my hands across your bum, then make my way up to your perky breasts._ He waited for what he hoped was the correct reaction. He heard her make a noise and looked up to see Granger, with her eyes closed, biting her bottom lip. Draco let out a low, soft, satisfying laugh and whispered, "That is what happens."

She opened her eyes in shock before pointing back to the parchment. Draco read, _Oh Merlin. This parchment is far more dangerous than the other one._

 _You mean satisfying. Although Granger, I am curious about one thing. Why could you not feel what I wrote about licking your nipples?_

There was a pause between them before Hermione answered. _I think we can only feel things we have done to one another. Let me try. I want to suck your ear._

 _Wrong body part, Granger._

 _Shut up. Did you feel it?_

He paused. _No, I didn't. Maybe you are right. You said you trust me. Will you let me try something?_

She looked up to assess his features, but it was not Draco's face. _I guess_.

He walked to her side, and with a glimpse to the witch behind the counter to assure she was preoccupied, he quickly covered her mouth with his right hand while he expertly exposed her left breast with his left hand, bending down to lick her left nipple. Her muffled moan gave him reason to smile at his ability, while he pulled her blouse back in place. Their eyes met when he stood straight up, and she moved his hand from her mouth. "Read it again," he commanded, in a low, seductive voice. She turned and reread his sentence, this time covering her breast he had just licked with her forearm.

"Theory confirmed," she whispered.

"Excuse me," the witch behind the counter was heading their way. Granger looked to Draco, afraid they had been caught. "It is near closing time. May I inquire which parchment you will purchase?"

Draco winked at Granger before turning around. "Yes. We were just discussing it. Darling, which parchment did you prefer?" Granger's eyes shifted from Draco's, to the witch, then back to Draco. He suppressed his laugh at her inability to speak. "Ma'am, we will take this parchment, two journals, seventy pages each. Please owl them to this address."

The witch was pleased with Draco's rather expensive order. "And will you like the journals engraved?"

"No thank you. How long until delivery?"

"Well, each parchment is cast by me, so it takes a little longer. I heard the sighs coming from your corner. I think the two of you can appreciate the intricate spells I have cast upon them, but as you can imagine, it takes time. You will have the journals in one month. I will accept half your payment now, and the other half upon completion." She handed a hand written receipt to Draco.

"Thank you." Draco promptly placed the proper pile of galleons on her counter. He placed his hand on the small of Granger's back and led them out.

Finally, Granger spoke. "Which parchment did you purchase?"

He kept his hand on her back as he led them to the Apparition point. They had spent almost four hours together, yet if felt mere minutes. "You'll see, Granger." She turned to look up at him, but he did not sate her curiosity. When they got to the point, Draco finally turned to her. "This is where we part."

"I had a very fun time today, Malfoy. I'm surprised, honestly." She was pulling out her wand as she spoke.

"I did too, Granger."

"You know, I didn't know parchment could do those…things." He waited for her to continue. "I really just wanted a magical journal."

"Granger, we don't have to use them for that purpose." Her head shot up in his direction, and he realized it was because he said _we_.

"I know. I just didn't want to give you the wrong idea." She was twisting her wand in her hand.

Draco let out yet another low laugh. "I don't expect anything. But it was fun." He could see her forearm push against her left breast.

"Until next ides?" she asked.

He nodded. "Until next ides."


	11. Chapter 11

Draco had learned through trial and error, that the best places he could be in his true form were ones which catered to more solitary confinement. He wished greatly to return to the Quidditch shop as well as the Water Gardens, but he would rather keep himself company in his mansion than brave a public in which he was so despised only being spit upon was good day. He began to reflect on his past bullying ways, and small drops of regret in his behavior began to creep into his conscious.

While reflecting, an owl arrived, parcel in talons and promptly dropped it on his lap as he sat on his balcony one evening, about two weeks after his fun with Granger. It was easy to deduce the parcel was a broom, but the sender was the true mystery. He searched for a note and was not disappointed. It read,

 _Draco_

 _Although neither of us want to relive the incident that happened outside my shop, it is a necessary preamble to understanding why I gift you this Nimbus 3000. The war is over and you have paid your penance. Paying for this broom, however, will be through bartering. A few other Ravenclaws and I get together every other month and play pick-up Quidditch games. But a turn of events has my fellow Quidditch mates and I playing sooner than expected, and with less time to train a new Seeker. To pay for this broom, you will come to our next pick-up game and champion our team in the coveted position. I trust that with a fortnight of preparation, you will not disappoint. The attached Portkey will glow at 5:30._

 _Roger Davies_

He almost smiled at the potential behind the Quidditch game, but experience taught him better than to hope. However, the date of the game conflicted with his one and only monthly appointment. The dilemma provided him the needed excuse to contact Granger. At this, he did smile.

By morning, she had yet to respond, and the suspense prompted him to do some sleuthing. Granger, it appeared, was on holiday, and did not disclose her whereabouts except to the Head of Office. This information provided a compact blow to his ego. He had been thinking of her daily, but with this new information, he realized Granger had thought little of him. He did not seek anything romantic, but the friendship he sought would not be fulfilled by her. Thus, wounded, he did not owl her again. It helped that his free moments were spent drilling and training.

She finally owled him, a week later, apologizing for the delayed response and explaining only what he already knew. She had taken a holiday, and was returned. In the privacy of his mansion, he let his annoyance escape. Unfortunately, he was not in a portrait-free room at the time.

"Appease my curiosity, young heir. What makes you huff and puff so?" Shocked, Draco looked up and to his left, at the portrait of a great ancestor. With a family tree traced back centuries, Draco was at a lost to the true identity of the young looking wizard in the old-fashioned robes, but knew better than to snub an ancestor.

"I have found disappointment in recent news. That is all." Draco turned and began to walk away, but the portrait was not yet ready to terminate the newly birthed conversation.

"The disappointment comes from unmet expectations. Tell me—what had you _expected_?" Draco, with the heightened understanding that he spoke to a Malfoy, did not slump his shoulders as he so desired. He turned and faced the portrait.

"Sir, you are more dimensional than most portraits. How did you achieve this? I ask because I choose to have your conversational abilities in mine own portrait, when I have it done."

The young wizard laughed before returning his focus to Draco. "I was not this age when I died, young Malfoy. I had decades to educate myself into this portrait. My family found me ridiculous for immortalizing myself in my youth, but as you see, none of them are capable of holding conversations beyond the parameters of the vision of their painters. I am sad to say, topics with my father must remain about the quality of wine, as he drank perpetually while posing, and had given his patronage to an artist who did not know him well." At this, the wizard bowed his head and shook it in shame. "And now, since I have politely answered a question which you so brashly asked, you will answer mine, directly."

"What was the question, Sir?" The wizard was not amused, and stared at Draco, who sighed and looked to the floor before answering. "I had expected the beginning of a friendship." His vulnerable response was met with an awkward silence, and when Draco braved a glance at the portrait, he was surprised to find it vacated. Vexed, he exited the room, and magically marked the doors to remind himself not to enter it again. The exchange created a sensitivity to abandonment when before he held only disappoint in unmet expectations.

An expected parcel arrived on the morning of the Ravenclaw Quidditch match. Draco opened his journal and dutifully owled Granger with her parcel. Within minutes, his journal emitted a soft golden glow. He opened it to see she had already begun correspondence. He read as she wrote:

 _Hello. This is a test. Are you there?_

 _Granger, we are no longer students. Stop making everything testable._ The pause between his response and her next one led Draco to believe she was celebrating off paper. Finally, she wrote once more.

 _Where are we going today?_

 _You can go wherever you wish. I have other plans._ He regretted the words as soon as he wrote them.

 _Do your plans involve Polyjuice?_

 _No._

 _I see._

He waited for more, but Granger wrote nothing else. Draco huffed and closed the journal, and prepared for his match.

Roger must have prepped his team of the identity of their Seeker, because none were shocked or reactive to his introduction by the Ravenclaw Captain. He was spoken to when needed, and truthfully, that was how Post-War Draco preferred conversations. It turned out, they were playing a bunch of Hufflepuffs. Luckily for Draco, Hufflepuffs were the most forgiving, although there were selective glares. Summerby walked over to Draco and the two Seekers shook hands.

As both teams positioned themselves, a feminine voice loudly cheered, "Go Draco! You can do this!" Draco could hear his temporary teammates snickering behind him as he traced the voice. An unrecognizable witch was jumping up and down and smiling, _directly at him_. The Ravenclaws, Draco had come to discover, were not a highly social bunch, and he was thankful none of them asked who the cheerer was.

The game began, the teams were evenly matched, and the Snitch was nowhere to be found. As Draco searched the skies, he could hear, "Draco, I believe in you!" He almost blushed at the encouragement rarely attached to his name. That witch-whose identity he highly suspected-would not shut up. Didn't she know, with all her book learning, that Snitches made a faint sound that could be heard? No one else had come to cheer. It was ridiculous and highly distracting.

The score was tied well into the second hour of play. Both former houses were feeling the effects of out-of-form bodies, but neither wished to concede. The Seekers could feel the pressure. And there was also the issue with the witch cheering from the ground. She surprised everyone with her ability, and her focus. Every cheer was for Draco Malfoy, but they were beginning to take on a different flavor.

"Baby, catch the Snitch like you caught me!" He actually lost his focus from the air and looked down at the witch. When did she start calling him 'Baby' and why is she insinuating they are intimate? Then, about ten minutes later, she yelled something even more embarrassing. "I know a witch likes stamina in her wizard, but sometimes a good quickie does the trick! Get that Snitch!"

Draco could not handle more embarrassment. He swooped down, within talking distance of the witch and sneered at her. "Please, stop cheering for me."

"But Baby, I thought you liked having your ego stroked. Among other things." At his shocked and angered expression she winked at him before bursting with laughter.

"Granger—"

"Nope, sorry. I'm _Leona_." Her wide smile infuriated him further. The witch sobered her emotions before saying, "I'll make a deal. I will keep quiet for exactly thirty minutes. If you have not ended the game by then, who knows what I will yell?" Draco glared incredulously at the witch before curtly nodding his agreement and flew off with fueled determination.

The Snitch was caught in twenty-six minutes.

As the Ravenclaws cheered, their energy renewed by victory, the Hufflepuffs collapsed on the ground, exhausted. Leona made her way to the crowd and patted all on their backs before attacking Draco by jumping on him and wrapping her legs most inappropriately around his waist. The others seemed to repel away from the scene, but Draco could hear laughter.

"Gr—" he began before the witch forced their lips together in a full on snog. He pushed her off of him and held her an arm's length away. "Stop that!" he whisper-yelled.

The witch was having too much fun. "Lucky for you, I must. I have run out of drink."

"Good." The witch looked affronted by his comment to which he finally felt victorious.

"I had to have some kind of fun. After all, I had already brewed the potion and secured the hairs." She stepped away from him and they began to follow the others towards the local pub.

"You could have saved it for next month."

"Oh, so we will continue next month? I was not sure if our excursions had been replaced by Quidditch." She was grabbing her forearm again.

Draco snickered. "You sound insecure."

She did not respond to his assessment. "I will be writing you tonight." With that comment, she disapparated, leaving Draco to answer the bombardment of questions about the strange witch to the group of Hufflepuffs and attentive Ravenclaws.

When he returned to his confinement, he was pleased to find his journal glowing.

 _You are welcome._

 _Welcome for what, Granger? You humiliated me with your falsely intimate cheers._

 _Did you have a nice time at the pub?_

The question gave Draco pause for reflection. He realized that indeed he _had_ had a nice time. And it was because he was able to talk about the crazy, delusional witch that stalked him at their match. Granger's antics had made Draco relatable to the others. Her actions gave everyone a commonality, a talking point. What would he have said had she not been such a scene? Sure, they would have talked Quidditch, but would it had been with the same amount of ease? Would he had been comfortable talking about himself?

 _Thank you._ He wrote.

 _No problem. It was quite fun, actually. Unfortunate that you caught the Snitch in such a timely manner._

Draco chuckled. _No, it was fortunate._ He stared at the journal for a few seconds, wondering at Granger's pause in responding.

 _Malfoy, I have had a bad month. Can you just write that you are hugging me?_

Her words were unexpected. Surely she had friends that would hug her. Despite the wondering, he owed her for today. _I want to hug you, Granger._

 _Why can't I feel it?_

 _I am hugging you, Granger._

 _I still can't feel it!_

Puzzled, Draco looked to the wrapping of his parcel and searched for the contact information of the caster. Instead, he found a small parchment.

 _Dear Sir,_

 _Because of the intensity of the spells, the parchment needs to be calibrated before the magic you experienced in my shop takes full affect. I have no doubt you will be pleased with the journals._

 _Lise Hallowes_

Draco returned to his journal. Granger's lack of writing proved she was waiting for him. _Granger, let your wards down for me._

 _Done._

Upon apparating, Draco was met with confused eyes. "Here, Granger." He handed her the parchment.

"I see. Why didn't you just write me?" She looked up at him, perplexed.

He sighed at her obliviousness and grabbed her arm, pulling her into his embrace. She stiffened before relaxing and wrapping her arms around him. It was the first time Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger had touched one another (except for the infamous punch).

The embrace was short lived. When he let her go, she willingly stepped away. Neither made eye contact as Draco explained himself. "I owed you for today. The next time I write that I want to hug you, you should feel it. Bye Granger."

"Bye Malfoy."

As he prepared for bed, Draco glanced periodically to his journal. It never glowed. He pulled the covers back and tucked his body under them while casting all the necessary spells to ward his room and extinguish lights. In the dark, Draco was more alone in his thoughts. He tossed and turned and finally said, " _Lumos_." With the light of his wand, he opened his journal and wrote. _I want to hug you, Granger._

He placed his journal and quill back before casting, " _Nox_." However, only minutes passed before his journal glowed, lighting his room.

 _I want to hug you too._

Draco immediately felt her body pressed against him, and her arms wrapped around his back. The warmth of the feeling gave him the peace he searched for that night, and he fell asleep content.

 **A/N: Special thanks to all the reviewers: Mischief, 4fanci, Guest, HarryPGinnyW4eva, and I was BOTWP.**


	12. Chapter 12

She corresponded with him daily, through their journals, and they never went out together without the comfort of someone else's forms. It had been two more months of this behavior before Draco was secure in deducing that in Granger, he had found a friend. This conclusion was accompanied by a sense of contentment, but the deficit between his personal and private life was too great, and his dues were a constant stress.

In Granger he could confide about his daily attempts of fortitude to the strain of being bullied. But he did not. Although knowing he could write, at any moment to Granger, was comforting, the filter in which he wrote kept him from vulnerability. The need for invulnerability kept him from fully exercising the benefits of friendship. He was well aware of the barrier, and he respected Hermione's intellect enough to know she was of equal acknowledgement. It was why they only went out together in their Muggle forms.

Why the last thing they wrote to each other every night was "I am hugging you" was a little less certain to Draco.

He came home from work, on the eve of the ides, and in the security of his warded room, pulled his glowing journal from his inner robe pocket. The glow was expected, as they needed to converse about the logistics for their excursion the following day.

 _You know what the problem with addiction is?_

He stared at her words, flabbergasted. _Granger, are you insinuating that we are addicted to Polyjuice? I can guarantee you there are no lingering effects._

She wrote back immediately, as if she had anticipated the path of the discussion. _There are no lingering physical effects. Psychologically, there could be many. I doubt anyone has done the research._

 _Am I to be your test subject?_

 _LOL. No. That is not what I mean._

"LOL." He gave those three letters much attention as their meaning perplexed him greatly. Granger seemed not to notice his ignorance as she continued scribing.

 _I don't know how long you have been doing this, but we have transformed four times together. I'm just saying, I'm not sure it is a good idea to be dependent on being someone else._

Draco stared at her inked words, and considered carefully his next sentence. _Granger, you don't have to join me._ When she did not respond quickly, he decided to write more, but paused when words began to form.

 _Why don't we try something new?_

"Something new?" he questioned aloud, to his empty room. _Granger, we are always doing something new._

 _Tomorrow is Thursday. Just take a four-day vacation with me. We can go somewhere where no one knows who Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are. Think of it as the inverse of transforming._

Although he could soundly argue such logic, he decided to humor their conversation. _Where do you have in mind?_

 _Australia._ Her immediate response was too telling. He stared at the word, thinking of the implications of a conversation premeditated. It was a testament to his utter desperation for escape that he agreed to what he could only infer as a trap.

 _How will we get there, Granger?_

 _Can you apparate over? We might as well talk in person._

Draco found himself staring at the inked words. They had talked face to face on only three occasions. He found himself unconsciously walking to the Muggle hairs before stopping. Somehow everything was so much easier when he was not himself. Perhaps Granger was on to something about addiction to Polyjuice. He turned back to the journal. _Let down your wards._

 _Done._

With a crack, he was in her living room, and stepped over a pile of books as he made his way to her couch. She was seated across from him, her eyes following his path.

She continued their conversation as if their medium of talking had not changed. "So, you will need to take Thursday and Friday off so we have enough travel time." She levitated a glass of wine to his side. Draco nodded and took it.

"You assume I can take off work."

She laughed. "You are your own boss. I admit I don't know exactly what it is you do, but I know you can control your work hours." His silence confirmed her statement. "We will need to fly."

"I thought you didn't fly." He took a sip of wine and approved the flavor. "Besides, flying would take much longer, and it would be exhausting."

"Not by broom!"

Draco put his glass down on the table in front of him and glared at the witch across from him. "If you are talking about some _Muggle_ contraption, I would rather not risk my life." He sat back and crossed his arms as silence overtook the room.

Finally, the petite witch before him huffed. He let out a bemused smirk as her hair bounced with her attitude. "Think of it this way—in Australia, no one will jinx, hex, curse or spit at you. You can walk in the open and no one will even look twice. Well, they might, but it will be for other reasons. Do you not think this type of freedom is worth a short time amongst Muggles?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I am not prejudice against _Muggles_."

"Well then, it's settled. If you are not prejudice, then you have no qualms with flying in a Muggle-made contraption." She mimicked him by sitting back and crossing her arms. It was her smirk that undid him.

"Granger, you didn't eat that brown blob in Antrim. By your logic, I could call you prejudice against the Irish." He saw her open her mouth and lean forward, but he hurried on with his argument. "It is perfectly sound to not solicit a death wish by flying on a contraption that has a history of crashing. This whole conversation is unbalanced by the fact that I think you have an ulterior motive for us going and what do you mean they would look at me 'for other reasons?'" Through his rant he had leaned forward over the table that separated them.

She uncrossed her arms and leaned forward to meet his face across from her. "We will have our _wands_ , Malfoy. It will be fine." Her breath was hitting him, warm and smelling of wine. It reminded him of another memory, one he had not thought about in some time. "Red lace."

"What?" she asked, standing.

Draco had not realized he had said that aloud until she had distanced herself. "I said, 'relentless.' You are relentless." Her glare proved she did not believe his cover. Slightly abashed, he decided to cave to her wishes instead of admitting what had just flashed through his memory. "I'm bringing my broom as well."

"Fine."

"Fine."

He stood and moved around the table and in and out of the obstacle course her books inevitably created. When he got to the spot whence he apparated, he turned to face her. The expression she wore was unfamiliar. He cleared his throat. "So, what time do I need to come tomorrow?"

"Seven. Tomorrow morning."

"Granger." He nodded in her direction and lifted his wand.

"Wait, Malfoy…" Draco met her eyes, wand still raised. "Will you write to me tonight?"

He smirked and lowered his wand. "I think you are addicted to my embrace Granger."

Granger was quick to take away Draco's assumed victory. "And if I did not write to you tonight, you would not wish I had?"

He almost growled. The bushy-haired witch meters away vexed him, greatly. She had a way of always trumping him, and his calm demeanor extinguished as he recalled a few of those occasions. With a new determination, he strode over to a wide-eyed Hermione as she stumbled back. He grabbed her arms, holding her up instead of letting her fall.

"Listen here, Granger." His voice was perilously soft, in juxtaposition to his threatening behavior. "I'm tired of this!" He was breathing hard, and could almost hear his heart thumping in his ears. He was dangerously close to the witch. Proximity to her often shifted his focus.

He had not realized she was waiting for him to expand his meaning until she finally whispered, "Tired of what? What is _this_ , Malfoy?"

It was too much. Draco had no answer to _this_. He had no clue. He released her, and realized, regretfully, that he gripped her too hard when he saw her messaging her biceps. Slowly, he backed away, and apologetically replied, "I'll write you tonight. See you tomorrow." With that promise, he disapparated.

 **A/N: I really can't express enough the appreciation from the positive reviews. Special thanks to I was BOTWP, HarryGinnyW4eva, etuck89, JLMischief, Guest, and White Bishop.**


	13. Chapter 13

It was easy for Draco to promptly apparate back to Granger's as he had hardly slept. Granger was standing there, waiting for him. She held a small black purse and was already facing his direction.

"Granger."

"Malfoy."

She stood there, eyeing him until Draco sighed, saying, "Granger, you are the one heading up this little holiday. I suggest you start giving direction."

Hermione smirked, and walked toward him. "Malfoy, your attire is too wizard-y. You have to change."

Draco looked down at his dress robes. "I don't own Muggle clothing, Granger. I thought that would be obvious."

"It was," she quickly replied. "That is why I took the liberty of purchasing your clothes for the trip." He raised a questioning brow to her comment. "I laid out your traveling clothes on my bed. You can change there." She pointed behind her.

"Thank you." He wasn't sure if the appreciation was premature, but he thought it best to begin the holiday peacefully. He stepped over and around her books as he made his way to her bedroom. As he stripped himself of his wizard robes, he glanced around her private quarters and could not believe the pristine cleanliness and order, in opposition to the chaos that ruled outside the room. There was but one book in existence in this room, and it lay on her nightstand. He walked over to it as he pulled his trousers up and fastened them. " _Lockhart's Guide to Memory Spells."_ He read the title aloud, pulling his shirt over his head before picking up the book. He examined the back cover, surprised to find that it was not their old Professor Lockhart who authored it. "A mere coincidence, then."

"What is a coincidence?" She was standing at the door.

He dropped the book on her bed and quickly turned around. "Granger, did you watch me change?"

"No." Her blush gave him reason to believe her answer held little truth. "I had come to tell you we need to go. I have never known a wizard take so long to change clothes. The fact that you don't know how to shut a door is a fault you own entirely."

"I charmed my doors to close and lock behind me, Granger. I am surprised you don't have something similar here."

She chose to redirect their topic. "I did not see your broom, Malfoy."

"It's in my pocket…" he turned back to her bed where he had thrown his robe. He fumbled for his pocket and removed his broom.

"Undetectable Extension Charm?" She was smiling at him.

"Yes."

"And your other items?"

"I had packed clothes and money. That was all."

"Well, bring the money, leave the clothes."

"Obviously, Granger." She turned and walked away from the doorway. He followed her out.

 _Granger, this is uncomfortable._

 _Be specific. What is so uncomfortable?_

 _These cramped quarters, the Muggles everywhere, the NINETEEN hours we will be like this—you name it, it's uncomfortable._

 _Well, you could have asked me about the details before. The next time you make a deal with someone, be sure to set all the parameters._ She had thrown his own words back at him, the vexing witch.

 _This is hardly equivalent to me ordering your food, which I might add, you thoroughly enjoyed._

She laughed beside him and brushed his arm as she continued writing with her transfigured pen. _Yes, I did enjoy it. I wouldn't mind eating it again, if I knew what it was._ She closed her journal and turned her body to face him. Malfoy had chosen the window seat, preferring to be boxed in by her than surrounded by Muggles. "This is silly. We are sitting beside each other. Let's just talk."

He turned and looked at her, truly looked at her, with his own eyes. Then he looked out the window. "It's odd for me too, you know." He looked back at her, quizzically. "Being here with you, the _real_ you. It's not easy for me either." He turned back to watch the clouds. "I know I might have purposely omitted details about this trip, but I think it says a lot about our friendship that you were still willing to come."

Draco would not admit that he came blindly because of his desperate need for friendship. Once again, he turned to look at her. Her eyes were brown, he noticed for the first time. He could tell he was making her uncomfortable by his silence, as he traced her wild hair and facial features. He smirked at the newfound advantage. She cleared her throat. "So, I was thinking, I should be honest with you, now."

The shift in the seat in front of her alerted them both that their conversation was not a private one. She reopened her journal.

 _Why do you have a book about memory spells in your bedroom?_

 _Of all the questions I thought you would ask, this was not one of them._

 _Stop redirecting. You said you would be honest._

He could hear her tapping her pen against the journal, mentally editing her answer before writing it. Finally, she began to write, and Draco looked to his page. _I am researching how to recover lost memories._

 _I assume it is to help those that were obliviated during the war?_ He saw her nod her head in his peripheral. _The noble Hermione Granger, I see, has a reputation that befits her._

The praise made her uncomfortable. Draco smiled and gave himself his second victorious tally. _Tell me what happened between you and Ron._

 _Are you not curious why we are going to Australia?_

 _Of course I am curious, Granger. But you chose to be manipulative, and now feel guilty about it. I choose to exploit your guilt for other means since it is inevitable that I will find out_ why Australia _soon enough._

She growled. He laughed.

 _Slytherin._

 _Thank you. Now tell me about Ron._

 _He was my first love. We were young love, we changed, end of story._

 _Tsk-tsk, Granger. That isn't what I want to know._

 _What do you mean? The details really are not that important._

 _Oh, I disagree. How many times did you two—_

She slammed her journal shut, causing him to lift his transfigured pen and turn her direction. "Stop that!" she whisper-yelled.

"Stop what?"

"Stop asking personal, uncomfortable questions!" She huffed and turned her body forward. He studied her stiffness and frustrated body language before turning to look out the window once more. The clouds mesmerized him, and he admitted (only to himself) that the Muggles had an impressive flying contraption, despite its many uncomfortable aspects.

Her hair tickled him awake, as he opened his groggy eyes and realized that sometime during the flight, the two of them had fallen asleep. She was breathing evenly, with her head on his shoulder. He gently moved her hair from his face to the best of his ability, and it gave him a full, unguarded view of her cleavage through her Muggle blouse. He openly stared as her chest slowly moved with her calm breathing. Draco held her head gently and slowly moved his arm around her shoulders, drawing her more into him. It caused her breasts to squeeze closer together and he smiled deviously at the free exposure. His eyes remained on her chest as he began to harden, and with that, an unwelcomed realization. He had not had sex since before the Quidditch game. That was almost a year. He removed his arm from around her shoulder before nudging her awake.

Hermione opened her eyes, and yawned. "How long was I asleep?"

"I don't know, Granger, but I hope you didn't drool on me." He made a pretense of straightening his clothes.

"I fell asleep on you? Sorry about that." She removed her seat belt and stood, stretching her body.

"What are you doing?" Draco had tried to contain his ignorance throughout, from the moving people in the box above him, to the fizzing drink the flight attendant offered, to the little contraptions people kept holding and looking at around him. He even wondered why the contraptions had to be secured by the ears. Yet with all this, he did not question. It was Granger, defying the "fasten seatbelt" rule, that finally had him voicing concern.

"I need to go to the loo."

"Oh. I need to as well." He unfastened his belt and stood. The hours of sitting had stiffened his body and he found himself mimicking her stretches. He followed her out of their seats and down the aisle, to the back of the plane, and when she opened a tiny door, he followed her there as well.

"What are you doing?" Her body was pressed flush against him, as there was no room for personal space in the small restroom.

Draco, arousal fresh in his memory, grabbed her hips and held them. It took a moment for him to register the move inappropriate. Hermione squirmed in his hold and gasped at what she felt. Her wide-eyes met his and he quickly removed his hands. "Sorry, Granger. I didn't realize this room would be so small."

She seemed to understand his ignorance as she put her hands on his chest and pushed him out the door. "Just remember, in this world, everything is _exactly_ as it seems." With that, she slammed the door shut and Draco saw a green "vacant" sign switch to a red "occupied" above the door handle. He couldn't wait to escape the Muggle world.

 **A/N: This chapter was hard to write, because I had to keep slowing down the pace of their relationship. But I promise, a kiss is coming soon. I am writing Chapter 14 right now, and hopefully will post it today as well. Special thanks to cool bnr, I was BOTWP, Sassystarbuck09, 4fanci, JLMischief, SereniteRose, HarryPGinnyW4eva, and Guest for the encouraging reviews.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Sassystarbuck09, this still isn't the chapter you are waiting for, so I hope you don't give up on them. Janethejhon, he was looking at the tv monitor. Special thanks to I was BOTWP, Sassystarbuck09, 4fanci, janethejhon, JLMishchief, Raven2hawk4, and HarryPGinnyW4eva for the reviews.**

"What do you mean, we aren't going to a magic district?" His shock at finding himself in another Muggle contraption, this one driving on land (yes he had been in a vehicle before, but it was magicked), compounded with the recent knowledge that their holiday would take place in the Muggle city of Perth, was almost too much. In addition, he was sleep deprived, famished, and—only recently brought to his attention—in the need of a good shag. How Granger had been able to distract him from his sex life escaped him. Had the realization _not_ been accompanied by sleep deprivation and hunger, he might have been less puerile in his outward behavior.

"I'm going back to London."

"You can't." She sounded desperate. The taxi swerved to the right. The witch fell on him and Draco immediately pushed her off.

"Why can't I? You can't stop me, Granger."

"I have all your money, your broom, and your clothes." She lifted her black purse and smiled.

He glared at her, and Hermione cautiously slid the purse behind her. He leaned back, casually in his seat. "I wondered why you were so willing to pack my things." She took his words as defeated, and began to relax in her seat as well. Draco lunged at her, but Granger was too perceptive. Her wand jabbed into his stomach.

"None of that!" The driver shouted.

He sat back. "I will have to remember this is how you treat a _friend_." She shifted in her seat, uncomfortably. He was pleased to discover the comment wounded her. "Unlucky for you that I have connections everywhere. I have my wand; I need only to get to pure-blood society in the magical district. My name will be currency enough." He smirked when he saw her discomfort at the remark.

"Malfoy, please. _Please_ stay." She was shifting in her seat, rubbing her forearm.

He turned and met her watery eyes. "Why Granger? Why Australia?"

She choked out a laugh. "Now you ask, when I have no time to explain." As if on cue, the Muggle contraption stopped. Draco watched her pay the driver with _paper_ and shook his head at the unending oddities of Muggles.

As the driver drove away, Draco redirected his attention to the quaint house before him. It was no mansion, and from his keen real estate eye, he surmised the whole house was no bigger than the Malfoy's grand foyer. Cramped living space added to his list of reasons to currently despise the witch beside him.

"You once said I should start giving you direction. I'm doing that now. Follow my lead." Before he could respond, the front door of the house opened and Hermione smiled brightly, grabbing Malfoy's hand and leading him to the elder couple eagerly awaiting her. Malfoy acquiesced, determining it was best to fit in until he could fully assess the situation.

"Monica! Wendell!" She released his hand and ran up the steps to hug the couple. Draco let out his breath, thankful she had not flown him here to meet her parents. They did, however have an uncanny physical resemblance to the bushy-haired witch. Hermione stepped back from her hug and motioned to Draco. He stepped forward. "This is Draco. Draco, this is Monica and Wendell." Her smile reserved for the couple lingered as she looked to him.

"Pleased to meet you." He held out his hand, ever the polite pure-blood.

"Draco, I am so pleased to meet you, finally!" Wendell grabbed Draco's hand with an alacrity to match his enthusiastic greeting. The young wizard could not reciprocate the sentiments as he pondered the meaning of 'finally.'

When they released their handshake, Monica brought him in for a hug, to which Draco was unappreciative. "It is so nice to finally meet the man that has captured our Hermione's heart!" With that comment, every little clue clicked into place. The memory book, the sudden trip, the elder couple that she seemed to adore and suspiciously looked like her, the lie she must have fabricated about their ersatz relationship… His eyes moved swiftly to Hermione, who had never looked more at his mercy than now. The power garnered from her pleading look unleashed his Slytherin spirit.

He smiled, most brightly as the woman released her hold on him. "She has captured mine as well." He held his hand out and Hermione cautiously walked into his embrace. Draco pulled her in and kissed her forehead. "'Mione is everything I have ever looked for in a wi—woman."

Hermione acclimated rapidly. She placed her hand on his chest and wrapped her other arm around his waist. "Monica, do you mind if we continue this inside? I can smell your famous roast, and Draco and I are starving."

Wendell chuckled. "Please, come in. I'm so happy you were able to make it one day early." Draco refrained from questioning. The proprietor of Hermione's heart would already know what was going on. They walked into the dining room, which was attached to the kitchen. He had to remind himself not everyone had his privilege, and that even Granger's flat was too small for his taste. He couldn't deny, however, the wonderfully mouthwatering smell escaping Monica's kitchen. Draco pulled out a chair for Hermione as she looked nervously in his direction. "Thank you, Draco," she whispered.

He smirked. She may have withheld valuable information about their trip, but he definitely held the advantage. "Anything for you, my dear," he whispered devilishly into her ear, before kissing her cheek.

Their late lunch contained all the necessary pleasantries. By the end, when Draco had his fill of food and conversation, he faked a yawn. "Oh, my dear, please forgive us. You must be exhausted."

"I cannot accept a needless apology, Monica." Draco charmed her with his social etiquette. "Our conversation has been lively, and you have exceeded your hosting duties with this most delicious roast. I would not mind, however, taking a short nap."

Monica beamed, and Wendell gave Hermione an approving smile. Their high praise of his character only added to the list of ways the Slytherin planned to blackmail the manipulative little Gryffindor. He just needed her alone.

Hermione seemed to sense the darkness lurking within him. "Monica, do you have separate rooms prepared?"

Wendell smiled. "Hermione, dear, I know your parents are dead, but if they were alive, I doubt they would mind if their daughter shared a room with her husband-to-be."

Draco had to fake a loud yawn to mask his surprised reaction. She told them her parents are dead. He was more than a boyfriend. Interesting. He was going to have fun with this. "Yes, 'Mione, love, from what you have told me about your _parents_ , I do not believe they would have objected. Wendell is like a surrogate father to you. If he and Monica are okay with it, I see no reason to be apart." She kicked him from under the table.

Monica smiled at Wendell and they held hands from across the table. "We may be significantly older than the two of you, but we have not forgotten about the joys of young love. That's why we are renewing our vows tomorrow." The older couple shared a moment of silence, staring into each other's eyes. It was an uncomfortable moment for Draco, despite the fact that each time they spoke, they revealed more useful knowledge.

"It really is okay if we are in separate rooms. We don't live together yet, and my parents would have approved either decision." Hermione was massaging her forearm again. Draco narrowed his eyes at her in recognition. He couldn't believe it took him this long to understand.

"Darling, your wish is mine as well." Hermione met his eyes, confused.

Wendell stood. "I'll escort you to your room, Draco. Hermione, you will sleep in your usual room."

Draco entered a bedroom the size of his bathroom, but remembered his audience, and the need to please. "Thank you, Wendell."

"No problem. Our Hermione is happy again, and we have you to thank for that."

Draco longed for sleep, but the comment fed him a last burst of energy. He turned to face Wendell. "She was sad?"

Wendell sighed and closed the door, securing their privacy in the Muggle way. "Yes. We have known Hermione for a few years now, and she has always been sad. But the past year her demeanor slowly began to change. She still dances with melancholy, but there are moments of happiness now. Like when she talks about you."

"What does she say?"

Wendell patted Draco's shoulder. "Oh ho! No, I will not divulge that. You can ask Hermione herself, if you really don't know what she thinks." He chuckled and left the room.

Draco had much to ponder, but sleep overcame him before his plans solidified.

Because he had gone to bed around six in the evening, he awoke around two in the morning. It took a moment to register why he was in a different place, but when the memories resurfaced, he smiled deviously to himself. After a quick trip to the bathroom to freshen up, he made his way, wand in hand, to Granger's room. " _Alohomora_." He entered her room before casting _Lumos_ , _Muffliato_ , and _Colloportus_.

Hermione was sleeping, quite soundly. He walked quietly toward her bed and examined her exposed body. He brought his wand to her forearm to confirm his suspicion, and saw the word "Mudblood" etched into her skin. He knew that if he had not been drowning in self-pity, he might have recalled that day sooner.

The light must have woken her, for when he looked away from her forearm to her face, a wide awake Granger was staring at him.

"By all means, don't stop staring because you have been caught." Her voice was hard, enraged.

Draco was not deterred. She had used him, and she would pay her deficit. He pulled the covers from her body and she shrieked.

"What are you doing?" She moved to grab her wand, but a quick _Accio wand_ from Draco prevented her possession. Hermione got out of bed, frantic.

"I'm staring. You told me to, Granger. Remember, I'm supposed to follow your lead." His eyes dropped to her hardened nipples, peaking through her thin, spaghetti-strapped nightgown. She moved her arms to cover her chest.

"Don't do this, Malfoy."

"Do what? What is _this_ , Granger?" He chuckled.

" _This_ is you coming into my room, apprehending my wand, and looking at me like that!" She had backed into the wall.

"Granger, you don't have to worry about me taking advantage of you. But since we are on that subject, let's list all the ways you have been deceitful for your purpose."

"If I don't have to worry about you, then give me back my wand!"

"Ha! And let you jinx or hex me? I would rather not." He took a step toward her. "You know what the problem with addiction is, Granger?"

She was no longer terrified, but he saw the fight in her eyes. "Yes, I do know." That was all she said as she glared at him. She moved her hands away from her chest, challenging him.

"Well, what is it?" He was impatient, and despite what he said, the bulge in his pants proved his body very much wanted to take advantage of her.

"The problem with addiction is that there comes a point where you need more." She had tilted her nose up at him defiantly.

"That's right, Granger. Now, we have established that the Polyjuice idea might become addicting. I happen to agree with you. But your need for a boyfriend…" He stopped to laugh. "Granger, your _obsession_ with having a relationship has become out of control." He took another step toward her. She tried to step back but had nowhere to go. "So tell me, when did I become your fiancée?"

Hermione swallowed. He could tell she did not want to answer him. He took three more steps until they were only an arm's length away. "I'll make this easier, and you owe me an answer. Why do you want me to hug you every night?"

She turned her head away from him. Draco moved his wand to her throat. "Granger," he said dangerously soft. "Are you so addicted to my touch, that you want more?"


	15. Chapter 15

She turned back and glared at him, her voice steady and direct. "I don't want more from you, Malfoy. I thought I had made that clear. Have you never noticed I have never instigated contact with you in your _true_ form?"

The question stung his pride, and compounded with his self-awareness of desire for the witch before him, the rejection enticed anger. With every second he found an increasing want to claim her. "Careful, Granger. I'm the one with the wands." To prove his point, he pushed the wand into her throat, dimming his light source.

With a speed he had not accounted for, Granger hit his elbow, bending his wand hand and giving her room to counter him before grabbing his wrist and twisting it behind his back. The angle pained him, and she took full advantage, knocking him to the ground and securing his wand in two moves. He looked up in the renewed dark through his disheveled fringe to the shadow of a witch standing above him, pointing _his_ wand at him. " _Lumos_. MLE are trained in all forms of combat, Malfoy. Tsk-tsk for underestimating me."

Draco needed a distraction, and quickly realized her curiosity would be his ally. "All forms, Granger?" The question was enough to temporarily distract her as he pulled out _her_ wand.

Simultaneously they pointed the wands, casting _Expelliarmus_.

Nothing happened.

"It seems our wands have no intention of obeying an undeserved master." Despite his observation, he did not lower Hermione's wand as he stood. They were less than a meter apart.

"May I suggest a truce?" Hermione, too, had not lowered his wand.

"Granger, I cannot accept a truce. You owe me too many answers."

She snorted. "And that is _all_ I owe you."

"What is that supposed to mean, Granger?"

"It means I know that predatory look in your eyes just a moment ago. I see it all the time in Wizards. They want to be able to claim they soiled the famous Hermione Granger. Why do you think I chose you, Malfoy? It had nothing to do with your looks, your status, and especially not your personality."

Her words pierced him, but he was not yet willing to concede a battle he was winning minutes before. Granger had a weakness, and he would seek it out. "Granger, are you a Legilimens?"

Once again, his line of questioning was unexpected. "No." She answered curtly.

Draco calculated his next move cautiously. "Well then, how do you know what all these wizards are thinking? Perhaps some of them truly admired you and wished for a genuine relationship. I'm guessing you chose me as your fake fiancée because my _former_ prejudices, and strong historical dislike of you would be a buffer enough for you to never have to get close to anyone. It is a shame that you have to perpetuate a lie to yourself instead of just going for what you truly want." He lowered the wand. It was useless to point it at her when it had already been proven that it wouldn't work for him.

He watched her as she eyed her wand, and knew he couldn't trust her not to make a move for it, despite also lowering her wand hand. He would have to keep her brain occupied. "But you obviously are seeking some form of physical intimacy, if not a true relationship. I know this because you touch and kiss me every time we are someone else. You were even willing to go much further at one time, as you recall."

Her eyes moved from her wand to glare at him. "You were willing to as well, Malfoy. Don't forget that."

He smirked before he shifted his line of questioning. "Granger, why do you hide it?" He pointed to her scarred forearm.

Like before, his tangent interrogation kept her from focusing on her wand. Her eyes widened, briefly, but in their limited light he could not read the full spectrum of emotions on display on the Gryffindor's face. She chose, once again, to answer his question with an attack. "Why do you hide yours?"

This was the opportunity Draco needed. "Allow me to show you." He pulled off his shirt, and noted with renewed pride, how lasciviously she traced his defined chest with her eyes. He stepped closer to the weary witch and held out his arm. "I don't have to hide it. Nobody knows why, but the Dark Mark disappeared with the Dark Lord's death."

She studied his forearm, unable to determine what to do next. He was very close to breaking her defenses. "Someone with lesser intellect might not be as observant, but I see it all, Granger. I'm here because your parents—whom you have obliviated and do not know you are their daughter—cannot suppress their paternal instincts to worry about your happiness. So you embellished your story about a boyfriend into a fiancée. But we both know this fake story of yours to appease them cannot compensate for the guilt and utter despair you feel because you took away their love for you." Draco's voice was calm and understanding, and because it lacked a tone of judgement, Granger had no fuel for a counterattack.

With the raw truth, Hermione broke. She stepped back until her back was once more against the wall and sank against it to the floor, covering her face as her body shook with her silent sobs. Draco looked down at her, debating on his next move.

He walked to her, and pulled her up into his arms, holding her taut against him. She moved her arms from her chest to around his back, pressing herself against him while quietly crying on his shoulder. He blew her wild hair away from his face.

They stood in their tight embrace. Hermione tried but failed at tranquility, and Draco was far from selfless, as he enjoyed the feel of her breasts against him. He began to massage her back, which seemed to help calm her. When her body stopped shaking, and he no longer felt tears on his shoulder, he stroked his hands up her back to her face, pulling her away from him.

She sniffed. "Excuse me, I need to go…" She walked away to her bathroom, her form slightly visible from the outside lights creeping in through her window. She returned momentarily, with a bathrobe on, and with a refreshed, clean smell.

"Come here." He held out his arm and when she walked to him he pulled at the knot in her bathrobe.

"What are you doing?" She hissed. She tried to retie the robe but he hit her hands.

"You looked better before." He yanked the robe off her.

"I told you I am not interested in you!" She was whisper yelling.

"Granger, answer me now, or I leave for London. Why do you want me to write that I am hugging you every night?"

She scowled at him, but he was not deterred. Her scowl turned into a stare which he met with equanimity.

"Goodbye, Granger." He turned to leave, but she finally met expectation.

"I have ruined my life." He paused with his hand rested on the doorknob. "I lied to my friends about my parents. Harry and Ron think they just like Australia better, because I don't want to admit that I cannot reverse the spell. I cast a Disillusionment Charm every morning to hide this hideous reminder of a time when I had no control. Ron and I had very disappointing sex twice. Twice, alright? I'm not happy, Malfoy. Your hug every night holds me together."

He turned to examine her the best he could with the lighting offered. Her eyes were downcast, and she was massaging the scar on her forearm. Internally, he could not believe how open Gryffindors were. Pansy would never have revealed so much.

He walked back to her and began taking off his pants.

"What are you doing!" She crossed her arms and backed away, fumbling for his wand.

"Granger, you seem to have forgotten you have all my clothes. I'm changing. If you don't mind, I would like some pajama bottoms." He looked up to see her staring at his body. She turned her head when she realized she was caught. Draco laughed. "I don't mind you looking, Granger. You looked before." Hermione turned her whole body in embarrassment, recalling the previous day when she had watched him change in her bedroom. It was his turn to rake in her body, and as before, he desired what he saw.

"Granger, what you said was pretty pitiful. Thanks for making me feel better about my life." She laughed bitterly. "But a thought has crossed my mind. You crave intimacy, but you are not yet ready to receive it." She glanced up at him. "It could be because you have such little experience and none of it was good."

"I didn't say—"

"Let me finish. Or it could just be because you are a coward."

"I am no—"

"Uh uh. Let me finish." He waited. She remained reticent. "So I was thinking, why not let me give you a night of pleasure? It will only be one night, and when you have a strong desire for carnal release, I can write to you about the details. It is no different from the one night stand you were after, but this time you can relive it over and over again."

Granger moved to sit on her bed. Draco watched her with anticipation. "I don't know about that," she whispered.

"Well then, allow me to give you a sample." He walked to her, placed his hands on her shoulder, and lowered her spaghetti straps until the top of her nightgown fell to her waist, exposing her breasts. Hermione gasped, but Draco quickly smothered her sounds as he kissed her, ardently. At first she did not respond. He moved his hands to cup her breasts, and internally celebrated at the moan from her when he rubbed her nipples with his thumbs. She began to return his kiss just as he pulled away, smiling at her small whimper. "Don't worry, Granger. I am only abandoning your lips so I can kiss these perfect breasts." He pushed her down on the bed and gently moved her legs apart, before mounting her. Her chest was moving up and down quite visibly, and he smiled at her nervousness. "Trust me, Granger, you will like this." He cupped her right breast and moved his head to gently suckle her nipple. Hermione began to squirm, and her hands moved to his hair. When her hips began to thrust up, he mildly nipped at her nipple and pulled away, lifting himself off her completely. As he memorized her lust-filled form in the dim light, he gathered his clothes, satisfied in his seduction.

"Where are you going?" She had sat up, but her breasts were still on full display.

Draco walked to her, kissing her lips and slightly pinching her left nipple. She moaned once more. "I'm going to bed, Granger. Here is your wand." She could only stare at him.

"I thought you were going to—"

He grabbed her hand and put her wand in it before taking his own wand on the bed. "Oh, I plan on gratifying you, Granger, don't worry. This is all part of the build-up. I'll write to you when I get to my room. Be sure you read it, but no masterbating. I want you so wet for me that you climax with the first thrust. I am going to make you come so hard, and I will please you again when you beg for more." She sighed as he pinched her again. "But not tonight. It will be morning soon, and with what I plan on doing, we will need the luxury of time. As a matter of fact, since we have the vow renewal and flight tomorrow, we might have to do this back in London."

She whimpered once more, and he turned his back to her to mask his conquering smile.

"Malfoy," she said, in a voice he recognized once before. Draco turned back around. Granger stood, and her nightgown fell to the floor. He felt himself hardening quite visibly. She smiled wickedly and walked to him, stroking his penis through his boxers. "Don't forget your pajamas." With that she pressed her breasts into his chest and grabbed him. It was his turn to moan. She grinned devilishly before falling to her knees and licking him, most provocatively. Draco closed his eyes and sighed, but the moment was over as soon as it had begun.

"Granger, what?"

She held out his pajama bottoms. "Be sure to read your journal tonight, but no masterbating." She poked his nose and turned, giving him the perfect view of her back end. He gulped and left her room.


	16. Chapter 16

Granger displayed her ability to write vividly and provocatively that night. As Draco read her words detailing her promises of _future_ activities, he was seduced and in dire need of release. He could deduce, by her responses, that she was in an equal state of lust. The seduction sparked a stronger need to gratify the witch. With her frustrated sex life, it would be easy to create a craving for him once he had satisfied her. He smirked to himself at how easy a conquest she would be, and the intense pleasure her cries for more would bring. While rereading her paragraph about how she planned to put her tongue to use, he could suppress himself no longer. He masturbated.

A few hours later, faux fiancée duties beckoned. He found he approved, upon inspection, of the Muggle clothing on his body. He would never admit aloud he liked the style. Granger knocked on his door.

"Come in, Granger."

The door opened slowly. The blush gracing the witch's face left little to infer on her current thoughts. "Malfoy, we are supposedly in love. Perhaps we shouldn't frequent the use of our surnames."

He inspected her form underneath her short and strapless Muggle dress. "What should I call you then? I am unfamiliar with Muggle vernacular."

"Hmm. Call me Love. I have always thought the nickname intimate and romantic." She stood still, but her eyes actively traced his body.

Draco smirked. "Neither of which we are. A perfect nickname then. It complements our farce of a relationship."

She snorted, and he looked to her with a perplexed brow. "You were quite persuasive, early this morning, about your ability to seduce. With such an overestimated confidence, you might be surprised to know that your last remark left me repulsed."

"The truth repulses you?" He stepped toward her.

"No. The crudeness in which you speak the truth repulses me, and strengthens my fortitude."

"Fortitude?" He laughed. "Granger, is that a threat?" He took another step in her direction. "Are you going to go back on our agreement?"

"No. It is the truth." She tilted her nose up at him.

Draco closed the gap between them and gently put his hands on her waist. He was going to put his hands to creative use in discovering the type of undergarments she hid beneath her dress, but something in her face warned him of the move. Her hard eyes reminded him of her confession hours before, and the intimacy that could be contained in words.

She remained still, as before the contact. "Here is some truth, most eloquently put, _Love_." He grabbed her left arm with both hands, sliding his right hand across her charmed forearm. "The most attractive quality about you is your fortitude." He kissed the area where her invisible scar marked her. She gasped. "Your courage and determination are both desirable and intimidating." He moved to her left hand and kissed it. "Wizards covet you not to 'soil' you, as you so _crudely_ stated early this morning, but because you are brilliant as well, and to top all of these qualities, you also have a compassionate heart."

"Such pretty words from a wizard who only wants to get between my legs."

He released her hand and moved his hands to her face, staring into her watery eyes. "You are worthy of love, silly witch. And you will find it, one day." He moved to kiss her forehead, and could hear her rapid breath. "Now I'm going to hug you, because in your vulnerable state last night, you admitted that I keep you together."

Draco pulled her into him, internally congratulating himself as she wrapped her arms around his waist and slide them to the middle of his back. "Was that truth more to your liking?"

"Damn Slytherin," she whispered. He chuckled.

The ceremony was located outside. The two sat in the front row. Hermione had her legs politely crossed at the ankles. Draco moved in his chair and spread his legs, accidently touching hers. She didn't move away, and neither did he. They did not exchange looks, keeping their faces forward and focused on her parents. The string quartet began to play, blanketing the occasion with a romantic mood.

During the vow renewal, Hermione put her head on his shoulder on several occasions, for the briefest of moments. He observed the pattern and learned to expect contact every time the word "love" was mentioned between her parents. The witch beside him, touching her thigh against his, was just as lonely as he. Finally, when she moved to place her head on his shoulder once more, he moved his arm and wrapped it around her, holding her against him. She responded by placing her hand on his chest and exhaling quietly.

Later, after the vows had been shared, and tears of happiness shed, the party shifted to dancing. Draco stood and held his hand out to Granger. When she looked up into his face, he winked. She laughed and grabbed his hand, moving willingly into him. He held her in his arms, the embrace feeling comfortable and right as he slowly led her to the crowd of other dancing couples. She giggled at the movement and put her head on his shoulder, moving her hands to lock behind his neck. Draco kissed her cheek.

Between dances, he heard a couple (who knew not and cared not about their identities) talking about the two of them.

"Yes, she is like a daughter to them. Shame really, that they couldn't have children."

"Well, she made an attractive catch, now didn't she?"

"Oh yes, very attractive."

"They look very much in love."

The music began to play again, and he could no longer successfully eavesdrop. He squeezed the petite witch closer to him as they commenced their slow dance. She slid her arms down and up his back, sighing. He kissed her cheek once more, and Hermione lifted her head from his shoulder, a question in her eyes. Draco answered it, kissing her lips so softly, it almost wasn't a kiss.

She smiled up at him. He realized he was already smiling, and wondered how long he had been wearing his happy expression. He felt content, and could not remember the last time he had been in a tranquil state. The situation confused him; he had sworn Granger would never bring him peace.

So why was he smiling uncontrollably?

 **A/N: I forgot to thank the reviewers for your encouraging remarks. Thanks ndavis77, I was BOTWP, Guest, OHSHC-Haruhi, HarryPGinnyW4eva. White Bishop, thank you for the suggestion, but I do already have plans for Draco, and how he will help Hermione's parents. Hopefully they won't disappoint.**


	17. Chapter 17

Draco sat looking out the oval window as the large metal contraption lifted off the ground and above the clouds. The wonder of how it was all possible without magic kept his mind occupied until Granger leaned over into his space, placing her hand on his chest as she had during her parents' vow renewal.

"It's so ironic, isn't it? Flying is so magical." She smiled as she looked out the window. Thankfully her hair was in a braid down her back, preventing any wild attacks to his face.

Her assumed intimacy yielded an uncomfortable feeling within him. Draco remained silent, gently grabbed her hand on his chest and removed it. The act denied her conversation as well as physical contact. Granger sat back in her seat and opened a rather thick book and gave him no further attention. He immediately regretted his behavior.

The plane ride back was much the same as before, as expected when crammed in a tiny seat surrounded by Muggles for nineteen hours. Boredom claimed more of him with each minute until finally he jabbed her with his elbow and signaled to their journals. She glared at him and returned to her book.

But Draco was a Slytherin, and he would have his way. He smirked at her, and was pleased when her reaction proved she knew he was up to no good. As he kept his eyes on her, Granger's eyes widened upon recognition of his plan. Draco, with a deliberate, slow pace, opened his journal to the one page of sexual substance.

"Don't read that here!" she whispered imperatively.

He grinned at her and turned back to his journal. She grabbed it and immediately brought it to her chest. Draco's eyes narrowed at her challenging behavior. He slid his hand between his journal and her chest as she pushed the pages closer to her. He grinned when he found her nipple underneath her blouse and pinched it. Hermione threw the journal back at him.

He chuckled. "You touched my chest. I was just making it even."

"It's not the same, and you know it." She pulled out her wand from her purse.

"Granger, you told me Muggles would be able to detect those with their metal contraptions and law enforcement and not allow us to fly! My wand is in the luggage." His was not particularly quiet, but everyone around him had plugs in their ears.

"I know." She grinned evilly at him, and for the first time in years, Draco was terrified of her. " _Impedimenta_." Horror filled him as his hands bound to his sides.

"What if I need to relieve myself, Granger?" The joke was a poor mask of his fear. Draco was left to his wits, and Hermione was an even match, and had magic on her side as well. He shifted through various scenarios and outcomes quickly. "Granger, where is that Gryffindor sense of justice? How is binding me fair?"

She turned her body so she was completely facing him. " _Muffliato_. How is touching my breast after removing my hand from your chest, fair? Well, I could make it _fair_." He squirmed in the binding. "Don't worry, Malfoy, I won't abuse the power I currently have over you." She leaned over and pinched his nipple, hard. "Much."

Her evil grin widened when he angrily groaned with the pain.

"Okay, I pinched you, you pinched me. Now we are even."

"Our problem is multi-dimensional, Malfoy."

"What does that mean? Are we traveling through time?" He furrowed his brow, flummoxed by the remark.

She sat back in her seat and looked at the head peaking above the seat in front of her. "No. It means there is an emotional aspect that needs to be fair as well."

Her voice lacked reproach, so he ventured with his reply. "Granger, I was your fake fiancée, and I performed the part. You forced me into that situation. You should understand why I would prefer to separate the two worlds now that we are no longer subject to your parents' understanding. I am not your fiancée on this plane, therefore you shouldn't touch me as though I am." He felt the binds lift from his wrists, and happily embraced his freedom. "Thank you."

She ignored his thanks. "With your logic, you should have never pinched me." She was still facing forward.

Granger released her spell when a flight attendant made her way to their seats, asking them if they wished for a refreshment. She declined, but Malfoy asked for one of the fizzy drinks for which he had quickly found a fondness.

After a sip of the drink, he returned to their conversation. "Perhaps I shouldn't have pinched you, But I thought we had an agreement, Granger. I am to—" She had placed her hand over his mouth, ceasing his sentence. Draco nodded to her and pulled out his journal and transfigured pen. She removed her hand and did the same.

 _If I am to please your body, it seems I was within right to tease you._

 _But it was not within my right to touch your chest only an hour before?_

 _Granger, surely you see the difference. Your touch held implications that we left behind in Australia._

She didn't respond to his comment, and he glanced in her direction to observe her looking at nothing in particular, deep in thought. It was some time before she wrote again.

 _Malfoy, I think I would rather not have sex with you._

 _I don't understand._

 _No, you wouldn't._

 _Then explain._

 _I don't know how to explain._

 _Granger, I'm kissing you now as one hand cups your backside and pushes you into me, and the other hand massages your breast._

He smiled when she squirmed in her seat.

 _Do you honestly not want me to fulfill that desire for more?_

 _No, I don't think I do._

 _I saw you squirm in your seat. I'm sucking on your beautiful breast right now as my tongue circles your nipple._

"Ah!" she cried, arching her back away from the seat. He chuckled at his conquest. The chuckle brought her back to her senses as she slammed her journal shut.

"C'mon, Granger. This is fun."

"Only for you." She bent down and put her journal inside her purse at her feet.

Draco watched, confusion mounting with each unspoken moment. "Granger, you want it, and I want it. Let me please you." The plea was a soft whisper.

She turned to him, and matched his timbre. "That's just it, Malfoy. You can't give _it_ to me."

He studied her, searching for some clue to her sudden aloofness. He moved in to whisper in her ear. "Granger, I promise you, I know how to please you. One night, and you will not be disappointed."

She looked at him, her eyes filled with anger. "Malfoy, I already am disappointed."

He watched her unbuckle her seatbelt and walk down the aisle to the restroom. She was such a confusing witch.

 **A/N: I would like to thank you once again for the kind reviews. They motivate me to write more. :) Special thanks to Sassystarbuck09, nyanata, I was BOTWP, HarryPGinnyW4eva (Draco will come around, I promise), OHSHC-Haruhi (thanks for the smile), White Bishop and ndavis77.**

 **White Bishop, with your clear vision, you should write a story. I would love to read it. :)**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: This chapter is not balanced in character development, but I thought it was fair since relationships are often not balanced.**

Draco Lucius Malfoy was a gifted wizard. He had an acumen for business, was brilliant at potions, and (pre-war) used his extroverted personality to charm and manipulate. As with almost every witch and wizard effected by the war, he sacrificed parts of who he was, and for Draco, it was mostly for the best. His greatest change was perspective. Although he had not the means to garner trust from the other side after so many years of displays of grounded prejudices, he was a changed wizard. The onslaught of hate he incurred now formed his introverted personality as well as intensified his need to run from his problems. He knew all of this, quite consciously, and acknowledged the fact that Granger knew this about him as well. Which is why he could not fathom what went awry on their plane ride back, when he was immersed in his conversation with his equal.

It was hidden in her thoughts as she stared at nothing in particular.

The situation he was now in was that odd purgatory state when neither party could pinpoint exactly what went wrong, or what they wanted from the other, but could feel that it wasn't right. They had not spoken since the trip (an excursion he had found surprisingly pleasant), but he continued to write _I am hugging you, Granger_ to her every night.

She never reciprocated. It had been six days.

Because Granger was no longer a concrete, tangible part of his daily routine, she left an even greater void in his life than he had owned prior to conversing with her. Loneliness eagerly filled that void. Inevitably, the ides approached, and Draco sat observing Muggles walk in and out of the café. It was a daunting task without Granger, but he found that he had returned to his normal life. This normality was being spit upon, hexed, jinxed, and yelled at with hateful words every time he stepped out in public. There were few moments of peace, such as when he frequented the Quidditch Supplies shop. However, he still cast _Protego_ more often than not. She had been a false hope that he had found a companion whose presence decreased the pain. He wanted to forget that he had ever hoped.

His Muggle excursion lacked planning or imagination. He chose the Muggle that resembled him the closest, and went to Diagon Alley. He walked into The Leaky Cauldron and searched the room for an isolated spot in which he could drown himself in Firewhiskey and self-loathing. Instead, his eyes were locked onto a witch with familiar movements, flirting outrageously with a big bloke beside her. The more he watched her behavior, the more convinced he was that the tart was actually Granger. As he stared, she laughed while placing her hand on the bloke's broad chest. Draco knew that move. The witch turned and met his eyes. Her smile dropped immediately. But then the wizard beside her said something and she returned to her seduction.

His chest hurt. He found himself struggling to breath. Apparently Granger was all about pretension. He questioned whether anything between them had been real, then laughed at the irony. They spent their time together in disguise and pretending to be in love. Of course none of it was real. He Apparated home, and when the potion wore off, he did not renew it. The ides had been his one day to escape himself, and she had robbed him of that joy.

That night, as he tossed and turned in his luxurious bed, the glow from his journal turned his attention to his bedside table. With a great curiosity, he picked it up and read her words.

 _It pleases me that you wrote to me every night despite the fact that I could not return the gesture. I saw you tonight, at The Leaky Cauldron. It wasn't much of a disguise._

Her words stung his pride. It just occurred to him that Granger was a selfish witch, to have read his words and not respond in return. He closed the journal and turned his back to it, but another glow lit his darkened room.

 _I'm sorry._

He grunted out his anger. _For what?_

 _For not writing you sooner. I have been on assignment, and it would have been too dangerous to take anything personal with me._

He stared at her words, unsure of what to think about them or her.

 _Don't you find it interesting that we were both able to see through our Polyjuice disguises?_ He did find it intriguing, but it was not what dominated his current thoughts.

She wrote again. _I am hugging you, and wishing you were here._

Draco was overcome with emotion upon feeling her body wrap around him. He had missed it, longed for it, needed it. She was the only thing in his life not filled with hate. She was the only medicine to relieve his pain. He was addicted to her.

But he was angry still. This was a witch that never explained herself until it was too late. From being her fake fiancée to not explaining why she no longer wanted sexual release to omitting information about why she had stopped communicating—all of it was expired explanation. He was not her object.

 _Granger, I don't want to be friends anymore._ He immediately regretted the words. He had wanted to hurt her, but not sever the one true friendship he had. He stared at the blankness following his sentence and got out of bed and paced, pulling his hair.

As enraged at her selfishness as he was, he did not want to lose her friendship. Each moment in the darkness of his room increased his anxiety that he had successfully ended it. Finally, the journal glowed. He guiltily walked back to it, preparing himself for her final words.

 _I need more than friendship too. Come over, Draco. I need you._

 ** _A/N: Special thanks to Sassystarbuck09, nyanata (good point about tantrums), I was BOTWP (Wow, you make me look smart!), ndavis77, HarryPGinnyW4eva, purpleninjacow, White Bishop, and jacquig for the encouraging, thoughtful, and sometimes smile provoking reviews._**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: I would like to apologize for how long I have made all of you wait. It has been hard finding alone time lately. Not everyone will be satisfied with this chapter, but it was needed for Draco to develop.**

She smiled at the sound of his familiar Apparating crack, but it was short lived. Draco cast the moment he saw her. With her wand in his left hand and her bound in a chair, he could not help but feel intense pleasure at his newfound control. However physical control over Granger was not what he sought.

It was just the beginning.

She had wounded his pride, made him desire her, made him want to _be_ again. He was fine in his emotionless purgatory before her. It would be more difficult than before to build up his defensive walls. He almost hated her for making him feel. For reminding him that how he chose to live wasn't how life is supposed to be. The damn Gryffindor would not let him live in contentment, running or hiding from his problems. She gave him no peace.

Her defiant stare contrasted with her current, powerless state. It made her more attractive as she displayed yet another part of her to covet. He smiled at the humorous thought of wanting her bravery. He could see that his smile raised her curiosity, yet Granger restrained herself in the only way she could.

Draco finally began to speak. "Granger, it seems you have been busy."

She did not verbally respond as she remained motionless, staring angrily.

He turned his back to her, pulling a chair closer in an attempt to mask his face in case she saw the pain before saying his next statement. "Too busy to write."

"I told you, I was on assignment."

He smiled when she finally spoke, and turned around to sit directly across from her. "Yes, so you say."

"But you do not believe me."

"No."

"Well then, what's your plan?"

"Plan?"

"Stop being such an insufferable prat, Malfoy! Why did you tie me up?" She struggled to unbind herself.

He chuckled. "Granger, you have bound me twice. How does it feel?"

Hermione ceased her struggling and looked knowingly at him. "Oh." Draco's curiosity was piqued, but he knew he would not have to wait long for her to explain herself. "This isn't about how _I_ feel. It's about how _you_ feel. Funny really, I thought you emotionless."

"I'm hungry, Granger. What have you got?" He rose and walked into her kitchen. " _Accio_ food." Only an apple floated his direction, and it was spoiled. He turned to her with a raised brow.

She smiled devilishly. "Why would you expect to find food if I have not been home in six days? I told you, I have been on assignment. Some Aurors who had been trailing our target noticed a change in his behavior. It was not expected, and I had to leave immediately because he would have left the country—and our jurisdiction—if I could not find a way to keep him interested."

"You whore."

She stared at him. "Be careful, Malfoy. You don't want to see me angry."

Draco observed her bound body and decided it was an empty threat. "So, did you give him everything he wanted? Did you—"

"SHUT UP!" Her face was red and her chest heaved as she breathed heavily. He watched her body and decided he would pursue a different path. Either way, he had the control.

"This is you at your best, Granger. You thrive on solving the puzzle. You take on the leadership role in fighting and outwitting dark wizards." He sat down in his chair and moved it closer to her as her eyes narrowed. "Through your strengths you have created your own weaknesses."

"And what are my weaknesses, Malfoy? Do enlighten me." She squirmed once more against her binding.

"You have been fighting evil for so long that you don't know how to trust. And because you cannot trust, you will not allow another wizard close to you."

"I—"

"You accuse me of being addicted to the escape Polyjuice offers me. Well, dear Granger, you need it too. You are so intimidated by the thought of trusting someone else with your heart and your _body_ , that you can only pretend to have the intimacy you so desire. Pathetic really."

They stared at one another until she calmly spoke. "What you saw was the extent that I went. I had other ways of charming him, which involved clever confusion spells. You can read about his capture in _The Daily Prophet_ tomorrow. His picture will be rather comical. Not too many of them cry like a baby."

He leaned forward, held her chin, and let his thumb slide across her lips. "This mission of yours combined your best traits—outsmarting the evil dark wizard and pretending to be intimate." Draco was very close to losing his control. He backed away. "So there was no contact between you, except for your hand on his chest? Am I really supposed to believe that?"

"Believe that I am indeed that clever? That I could trap a wanted wizard with only spells and a hand on his chest?"

He stood to tower directly over her. "You never kissed him, or let him touch you in any way?"

"I don't see how that would matter."

"It does." He watched her squirm in her chair. "Answer the question."

"Unbind me."

"Answer the question and then I will unbind you."

She was straining her neck to be able to meet his eyes. He could see the defiance, but they were also scheming. He had seen that look before. He knelt so they were eye level.

"You compartmentalize yourself. Why do you question me when I do the same?"

"That doesn't answer my question."

She snorted. "No, for you it wouldn't."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He raised his wand in threat, but her courage did not waiver.

"It means that you will never feel."

"You want me to feel, Granger? I thought you just wanted my body." He leaned in again, grabbed her chin once more, and stared at her lips. Draco lusted for her, but there was more than lust that lingered in his thoughts. Something else was interfering with his need to ravish her; he could not identify it. "Granger, did you have any relations with him?"

"I will give you one last chance, Malfoy. Unbind me." Her eyes were hard, calculating.

He could contain himself no longer, smothering her mouth with his own. He had wanted her for too long. She turned her head to end the kiss but he grabbed her face and held it as he continued the unilateral intimacy.

The purring he heard made him smile into the kiss until he also felt something walk over his legs. He pulled away and looked behind him to see Granger's Half-Kneazle.

" _Impedimenta!_ " She whispered the cast in a low, dangerous voice. Suddenly everything made sense. Her devilish smile, her squirming, her threat, her calculating look…

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ " His whole body froze. "Ah. Why didn't I have you straighten out before I cast again? This is such an awkward position to be petrified in. Draco would you like to change positions, or are you _comfortable_ like this?" She waited for no response as he could give none. He could not trace her movement but could hear her walk to her bedroom.

To add insult to injury, her ugly orange pet rubbed himself against Draco's legs.

Granger returned, dressed in a robe. "Sorry about the temporary absence, Malfoy. I needed to change into something more comfortable. I had just arrived home, you see, when I wrote you." She flicked her wand and relief flooded him as he stood. But she was ready, and when he raised his wand, hers was already in place.

"I had wanted sex tonight, Malfoy. It has been a rough six days, and I have been told it is an excellent way to relieve stress."

He silently cast a protection charm. "Granger, I am not your sex toy. Besides, I don't like to have sex with promiscuous witches." She flicked her wand, but he would never know the jinx.

She smirked. "Not that it is any of your business, but I still have not had sex more than twice." On the word 'twice', she had flicked her wand again. He had been a faster draw once more.

"It's hard to believe anything that comes out of your mouth."

"But you'll kiss it." The response almost caught him off guard. He felt a slight tickle from her jinx as his counter cast had been almost too late.

"Granger, why are you casting?"

"Because it seems that neither of us trust the other to have a decent conversation without asserting magical dominance."

"Then why did you release me from my petrified state?"

"Because, contrary to your declaration, I do see you as a sex toy. And to play with you, you have to be able to move."

He laughed, contemptuously. "Granger, I have done everything you ask of me. It was you that said you did not want sex. On the plane, remember?"

She stood, frozen. He saw a shift in her focus and it reminded him of how she had stared at the seat in front of her on the ride home. He wished he was a Legilimens.

Finally, she released herself from her daze, but continued to stare past him as she lowered her wand. "You're quite right, Malfoy. Pathetic really, that you are the only wizard with whom I can even entertain the thought of having sex with."

He lowered his wand, unsure to which direction the slight fell.

Hermione looked up and met his eyes. "I'm sorry for not treating you properly. Perhaps if I had, you would not see me void of intimacy." She threw her wand on the couch in an act of surrendering. "Malfoy, will you stay with me tonight?"

"Why Granger? You are a confusing witch, you know that, right? You want sex, you don't want sex, you want sex again. What is it that you really want from me? I don't want to be in the middle of the act and have you change your mind."

Hermione sighed and lowered her head. "I am so well kept together on the job, Malfoy, because it distracts me from the failure of restoring my parents' memories, and of my loneliness. You're correct about my lack of trust. I just want…"

Her voice trailed off and she denied the sentence completion. Her shoulders slumped.

Draco slowly stepped closer to the petite witch who seemed lost in her thoughts. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her. She reacted positively, falling into his embrace and trailing her hands up his chest and around his neck.

"I'll stay, Granger. I'll keep you together."

Holding her, promising to care for her felt right. It was then, while he hugged her and sniffed her newly cleaned hair that he was finally able to give his undefinable thought attached to his lascivious one a name.

It wasn't a thought at all. It was love.

 **A/N: I am so appreciative of the encouragement and especially the thought in your reviews. Special thanks to: Chester99, HarryPGinnyW4eva, Sassystarbuck09, OHSHC-Haruhi, I was BOTWP, 4fanci, Guest, and SlyGirlofGreenandBlack. White Bishop, I thank you for your analysis, and for the thought it produced and challenged within me. You should think about writing a story.**


	20. Chapter 20

_She_ slept, comfortably, for the duration of the night. He held her in all the respectable ways a wizard could hold a witch with whom a sexual boundary remained dubious. As much as penetrating her boundaries tempted him, Draco was fully aware of the consequences on his heart if he ravished her body in the manner she wanted without the affection he _needed_ , accompanying it. Damn his self-revelation.

Thus, his night remained in a frustrated stagnation as he caressed her arms, hugged her waist, and kept his hands from massaging her breasts or closing the gap between their midsections. By morning, the two were a perfect contrast. Hermione awoke with a smile, squeezed the arm around her waist, and swiftly lifted herself from bed to begin her morning routine. Draco, having slept so little, remained in bed unsatisfied. Instead of a proper cleaning, he lazily raised his wand and cast a cleaning spell to his face and teeth.

Hermione returned to the room, and although his eyes were shut, Draco knew she was staring at him. Silence filled the room as he waited for her first move.

In almost a whisper, she asked, "Do you want to spend the day together?" The clarity of her soft request was more consequence of a quiet room than confidence in the answer to her question.

His stoic expression performed their duty well in disguising his thoughts. Apparently, the petite witch wished none other than to forget their disagreeable discussions and start afresh. He struggled with the notion, as the night of restraint had been difficult. "You don't have work today?"

"Don't you?"

Draco sat up and smirked. His tight grey t-shirt outlined his physique well, and he watched Granger's eyes quickly trace his torso. Her sexual frustration was on full display. Perhaps denying himself carnal pleasure while waiting to attain the heart of a confusing witch did not have to be inversely related. He decided to play, just a little; he deserved a little release. " _Accio_ , bra."

Cleverness had failed him. All the bras in her top drawer flung themselves at him and fell to her bed. Granger laughed, hysterically, as he removed black lace from atop his head. "Did you think the spell would draw me toward you?"

"No." As embarrassed as he was, sex was his domain; Granger was the one with the disadvantage. "I thought it would rip your blouse off and expose your beautiful, supple, fantasy-inducing breasts." The comment transferred the dominance between them. She ceased laughing as her face flushed, and Draco pursued. "Does that becoming blush across your cheeks travel across your chest as well?" He stood, walking toward her predatorily before grabbing her neck with both hands and sliding them up her face. His eyes moved from studying her parted lips to meet her own, dilated pupils. His conniving grin caused Granger to gasp, but Draco knew he was well within limits—at least this morning—to touch and suck what he desired and had denied himself during the night. Her pent-up frustration was too willing to burst.

He kissed her, hard, claiming her mouth with his lips and tongue. Her arms had yet to touch him, so he pushed further, leading her to a wall. She groaned into his kiss and wrapped her arms around his waist. He took her cue and pulled her legs around him as he thrust into her jeans. He pulled away from their kiss to study her reaction. Granger's eyes were closed, tightly. She groaned again, trapped between the hardened wall, and hardened Malfoy. It was an easy cue to read. He kissed her once more, pinning her to the wall, as his hands grabbed the top of her blouse and ripped it in half. He smiled into the kiss when he realized Granger had not yet noticed.

Draco grabbed her hands and intertwined their fingers. Granger seemed to find the move seductive as he felt her body melt against him, and he catalogued the move for a later purpose. He raised her hands above her head, thrust into her, harder than before, and grinned wickedly into a wide-eyed Granger before licking her neck as he made his way to his purpose for the whole morning seduction.

"These are so tempting, Granger."

"Mal—oh!" She would never complete her sentence. The only sounds escaping Hermione as Draco sucked her left breast were of incoherent pleasure. As he began licking her nipple, Granger's body lost control and she sank into him. He released her hands from above her head to hold her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He stopped licking to suckle her, pushing her back into his face as he carried her to the bed. Grangers moans fueled his desire further. She grabbed his hair and held him to her when he tried to pull away. Draco mumbled into her breast.

"What?" Her question was released in a gasp. She let go of his hair.

"You're so ripe." He turned so he was lying on the bed, with Granger on top, straddling him.

She looked confused by the move, and by his comment. "Ripe?"

Draco smiled. He let his hands travel from her back to her breasts, massaging them. He gently grabbed them and pulled her forward. She furrowed her brow by the move, but complied and had her hands on either side of his face. Had she not pulled her hair back, he would have been assaulted.

He rubbed his thumbs over both her nipples, hardening against her verbal reaction to the seduction. "Put your breast in my mouth, Granger. I rather like sucking them."

She complied, most willingly. Draco gaged her preferences by her reactions. When he flicked his tongue over her left nipple, she shuddered and lost control. The same move over her right nipple caused her to shove her breast into his mouth. She loved the sucking, but did not respond well to biting. Her favorite, he discovered, was a combination of sucking, circling, and licking. He had been seducing her breasts for a good half-hour to discover all Granger's desirables. But like all good things, it had to end. The rhythm of her pelvis rubbing into him combined with her wonton moans as he pleased her was causing him to want more than he had planned.

Draco flipped them so he was now on top. He lifted himself to get a full view of the half-naked, lust filled witch before him. He intertwined their fingers and raised her hands above her head. "These breasts have been well attended to, wouldn't you agree?"

She blew some of her wild hair out of her face and shook her head. "More, Draco." Hermione pushed her hips against him, causing her breasts to bounce. He had planned to stop, even if she begged (he wanted her to beg), but the jiggle of her perfect orbs was too much, even for his control. He bent down and traced her lips with his tongue before again making his way to her breasts. "Yes…" Granger was becoming incoherent once again. His ability to make her unable to speak proved too much. He wasn't going to last.

She moaned for more as he pulled away. He pecked her on the lips, then stood. "Granger, to answer your question, yes, I do have work today." She sat up, staring at him in disbelief. Her blush, the redness of her lips, the marks he left on her breasts, everything he saw made him want to claim more of her. He needed to leave. He would not give Granger the pleasurable sex she craved without owning a part of her heart as well. Truly owning it, without a doubt, and not under pretense.

She remained speechless. He bent down and kissed her, softly. "I can come back after my meeting, if you so desire." He kissed her again.

Her response to the kiss negated her need to answer aloud, but she did so anyway. "I so desire. Hurry back to me."


	21. Chapter 21

Draco's meeting would have been productive and promising, had an Eagle Owl not dropped a delivery parcel loudly on the table between himself, his two assistants, and Isolt Shiang. The package, demonstrative in its delivery, proved the sender had no desire to let it go ignored; it began to glow through the brown paper in which it was wrapped.

The glow dazzled its audience save one, and in him an erotic throb began to pulse. It was not a welcomed reaction when put into perspective of his current purpose and environment. He silently vowed to put Granger in a similar situation in recompense.

Draco flicked his wand as the parcel slid its way to him. Although curious, his assistants knew better than to ask a question. Isolt was not privy to this wisdom. "I am a self-proclaimed curiositarian, so please forgive my nosiness if it offends." She paused only briefly as her dark, almond shaped eyes, glued to the muted glow, looked up at Malfoy. "What is that glowing object? I assume it is vital to our meeting, or else you would have prevented its delivery."

Draco studied the witch before him, deciphering whether her words were a trap. Her choice of phrasing characterized a Slytherin mind, but he knew of her Pukwudgie allegiance. "It is nothing of great importance, Shiang, just a magic journal. It glows because I have a new entry to read."

Isolt smiled knowingly. "It's so funny how the wizarding world wishes for instant gratification, just as Muggles, yet _choose_ to not embrace their more efficient methods." Draco understood very little of her speech, and so he did what he always did—he remained stoic. "I'm guessing it is a personal correspondence, given it is a journal and not parchment. Although, you must not be too attached to the sender if you choose not to keep it on your person."

The assistants knew a line had been crossed and exchanged nervous glances.

Malfoy, ever the cunning Slytherin, would not be bested in a verbal battle. "Shiang, your observations about my journal and relationship with the sender are without foundation. However, your understanding of Muggle and Magical sciences is unparalleled. I believe we should continue our meeting in the capacities in which we are placed in the best light. Please continue with your findings, and I will determine the correct allocation of funds."

The middle-aged witch did not speak long before the distraction of the unknown content of the journal prevented Draco from all other thought. He hid it well with a nod, and affirmed with a glance that his assistants recorded the meeting faithfully. He could always study the transcripts later. Isolt continued to speak as she prepared some of her potions to demonstrate her findings. Her distraction to her work allowed him to open the parcel undetected. He silently cast a repelling charm on the item to keep unwanted eyes straying his direction before opening to the newest entry.

 _Can you feel my body rocking on your Slytherin snake?_

He immediately slammed the journal shut. The noise would have garnered attention had he not purposefully cast a spell for the inverse reaction. Her words lacked finesse, but the feel of her warm, opened midsection pushing against his erection revived the throbbing. He subconsciously thrust forward in his chair as his penis hardened.

The erotic feelings were both welcomed and unwelcomed. It was a paradox defined by his struggle between whether to seduce the willing witch without first owning her heart. It irked him to have her possess so much of him that he couldn't take what he wanted without consequence to himself. This moral dilemma never entertained itself when he took Pansy's virginity after she proclaimed a love he could not reciprocate. Nor did he harbor any regrets in his sexual conquests of any other witch.

Draco realized, out of nowhere, that the reason her blouse had not ripped open when he cast his summoning charm was because she was bra _less_ that morning. He tightened his jaw upon the revelation that she had planned a seduction before himself. He suppressed a groan and opened the journal to correspond.

 _Granger, put on the red lace you used to seduce me our first night. I want to see how it hugs your body when I flip you over on your bed and give special attention to your backside. When the lace travels over your nipples, let them harden in remembrance of my tongue's attention to them. I'll be there in less than an hour._

Malfoy had no understanding of the remainder of his meeting outside of his need to calm his erection. As his assistants stood, he took his cue and said mechanically, "Thank you for your time, Shiang. I will review my records and send an owl to you by Friday."

Isolt graciously walked over to Draco, forcing him to stand. Luckily, a wizard's robes hid what Muggle clothing could not. "Mr. Malfoy, thank you for your hospitality. I look forward to our collaboration." She smiled and shook Draco's hand with an unexpected warmth.

That was the extent of reflection Draco afforded their meeting; much of his body was bound to a prior claim to his thoughts. For the first time in his life, a euphoric feeling dominated, and it defied containment.

He gave orders to his assistants for the day, most of them about cancelling his appointments. While they compiled their parchments, he flicked his wand-summoning the journal—before Apparating to his new favorite destination.

He stumbled and fell over a pile of books as he hastily made his way to her bedroom. The sight of her, in the red lace, sitting against her bed frame with her legs extended but crossed, gave him pause. She laughed at her obvious current control and pushed herself away from the frame, sliding down her bed until she lay with her head atop one of her pillows as her hair followed. As she slid, the lace covering her midsection rolled up to her waist, exposing nothing but a tiny line of fabric across her hipbones. The small red triangle between her legs renewed his erection.

He pulled out his wand, and could not help but notice Granger's wand twitch in her hand in his periphery. Her distrust in his actions returned his cognitive functions. He removed his robe and shirt, but kept his trousers on as a reminder of his boundaries. With his wand, he summoned his journal and quill, and began writing.

His wicked grin baited Hermione, who summoned and opened her journal before he dotted the end of his sentence.

 _I enjoyed circling your nipples with my tongue and sucking on your beautiful breasts while licking your hardened peaks._

After reading the sentence, Hermione groaned and inadvertently spread her legs. The scene was near unbearable for a wizard in love. Still half-clothed, he quickly climbed on top of her, and in the open space between her legs. Her eyes opened wide, surprised at the move as he gently, teasingly, pushed himself into her. She moaned and wrapped her legs and arms around him, pulling him closer, unsatisfied with the tease. With the pull, she rocked her head back, closing her eyes. Draco smirked. "Granger, you're so ripe for penetration, but I promised you that I would make you come on the first thrust. You aren't there yet."

She groaned and met his stare with impatient eyes. "Please, Draco. I don't care about that promise. It was your first one that you have to deliver." Draco thrust hard into her, and remained in the position that pinned her to the bed. She tightened her legs around him, welcoming the move. "Just give me a fantastic shag. Now, Draco. I want it now."

The pleading caused him to weaken his resolve. He bent down and kissed her passionately, another move she met with equanimity. Her hands began to trail up and down his back as she tried to rock her hips against him. He moved his hands to her breasts and when he gently plucked her left nipple she screamed. "Please, Draco! I'm very close to binding you and having my way. Please! I'm so ready."

It was the binding comment that fed him sense once more. He couldn't shag her, yet. He wanted more than this one time, and if she considered him a toy, his novelty might wear off.

Draco pulled away, against her whimpers and struggle to bring him back to her. "I'm about to write a paragraph. Only read one sentence at a time, and only read the sentence when I give you permission. Understood?"

"Malfoy, you don't need to do this. I'm ready."

He smiled wickedly at her and took his time raking in her body before meeting her eyes. "Granger, it seems you don't know the pleasures of foreplay. A 'fantastic shag' should come with the full experience." He grabbed her and flipped her over, exposing her petite, firm bottom. He couldn't help but spank it, once. She shrieked, surprised, but excited.

"Stay like that. I'm going to write some things quickly, but don't read any of it." He saw her hair bounce in movement to her nod and smirked at his ability to render her speechless.

Hermione's journal began to glow, and when Draco shut his, she pulled hers to her. He put his hand on top of her hand, in a nonverbal signal to not yet read. Then he slid his hand over her arm, down her back, and to the thin read lace over her bum. With both hands, he cupped her cheeks and squeezed. "Read the first sentence, Granger."

 _I am thrusting into you as I pinch your left nipple._

"Oh!" Upon reading, Hermione pushed her bottom up, towards his welcoming hands.

"That's it, Granger. Feel my body all over you." As he said the words, he began to massage her backside. He moved his hands in synchronization from her shoulders to her bottom, cupping her and squeezing before continuing the cycle. "Read the next sentence."

 _I am sucking on your right breast as I gently bite down._

As she moaned with renewed feeling to his morning seduction, he used her distraction to his advantaged and risked a move he would not have done otherwise. He bent down and began licking her cheeks. It took a moment for Hermione to register everything happening to her body, and she tensed slightly upon the realization.

Draco chuckled. "Too much?" She couldn't respond. "Read the next sentence."

 _I want to lick your pussy._

The action had yet to happen, but it did not prevent Hermione from feeling in other capacities. She was a little embarrassed by it, even though he had just licked her bum, but she was equally eager for the experience. He grabbed her hips and flipped her once more. They shared an intimate, unspoken consent before he ripped off her thong. With the first swipe of his tongue, Draco made sure to start low and slowly pull his tongue up to her clit. Hermione's body shivered with the move and her legs pushed against his face. He circled her sensitive area quite skillfully, releasing a low, long groan from the witch. He continued to lap up her juices and apply pressure to her clit with his tongue before circling and massaging it. The pleasure of her moans caused him to cross his barrier as he penetrated her with his tongue.

"Oh!" She grabbed his head and pushed him into her as she thrust her pelvis and wrapped her legs around his neck. "Huh…"

The reaction was unlike any other witch, and as he stroked her once more, her need to have more of him fed his ego and desires a dangerous amount. He could no longer control himself.

He fucked her with his tongue, moving it around, inside her. She thrust herself against him in rhythm, pulling him in as much as she could, moaning louder by the second. He curled his tongue up, sliding out of her and licking her clit. He could feel an excessive flow of juices flood out and he immediately pulled away from her.

"Malfoy! Don't stop! Merlin, I'm almost there!" She sat up, legs still wide open, the bedsheet below her soaked in her fluid.

He wiped his mouth with his arm and smirked. "I know, Granger. That's why I stopped."

She stared at him, unable to communicate what her brain was scrambling to understand. Her wild hair gave off the look of a witch sated, but she was everything to the contrary. "Why?"

"Granger, in this fantastic shag I promised you, I get to be pleased as well."

A look of shock covered her face momentarily before her silence confirmed her guilt of selfishness. "You are a cruel Slytherin, Draco Malfoy. Excuse me while I go clean up." She pushed his shoulder on her way to her bath. Draco heard the door lock. When the sound of splashing water suddenly muted, he understood why. He too, needed release.

He was a cruel Slytherin, indeed, for being too much of a coward to tell her the truth. He muttered to himself, as he gathered his things. "Granger, in this fantastic shag, I get to be loved as well."

 **A/N: I worried that I had lost my audience with such a long break between chapters. Thank you for not giving up on my story. Special thanks to the comical and encouraging reviews of stephalopolis09, nyanata, Msashleyz, rezakeene, and Dyan23. White Bishop, thank you for the thoughtful comments that make me reflect on my own writing. Thank you everyone, for making me want to keep writing!**


	22. Chapter 22

If love was as easy to attain as money, Draco would have it in abundance. Although an inaccurate observation from varied perspectives, it was his truth, and it echoed in his thoughts while he waited impatiently for her to respond to his journal entries the following night. The stress he induced from denying Granger confined him to a world of one. He was now more trapped than he had been before meeting her.

The next morning, Draco's distracted mind exposed him to a deluge of embarrassment as he failed to be alert of his environment. His legs danced uncontrollably before a crowd of hateful onlookers. The unrecognizable caster of _Tarantallegra_ , laughed the hardest. As he spun, Malfoy pulled out his wand.

" _Finite Incantatem_!" Her cast brought a temporary relief to his current situation. The wizards scattered, and the witch let them flee as she approached an exhausted Malfoy.

"Do you need a replenishing draught?" No longer in duress, his mind wrapped around the identity of his savior, causing him a great discomfort. It was Ginny Weasley.

The pause he gave before answering was a direct result of exhaustion and embarrassment, but Ginny, whose history with Malfoy had never been a positive one, took his silence as an affront to the help of a "blood traitor." Ever the fighter, Ginny defended herself against her perceived attack with a verbal counter.

"You should just masquerade as _Leo_ daily if you take offense to a Weasley rescuing you."

Her anger shocked him, but only momentarily. He had grown accustomed to being misinterpreted. Malfoy stood, staring down the Quidditch player, debating on the proper response. "Now that I have caught my breath, please accept my gratitude." He nodded to her and readied his wand as he stepped around her. Draco was seven steps away before the red-head caught up to him.

"Why are you not curious about my calling you _Leo_?"

He ceased and she remained in front of him. Draco arched an eyebrow. "Should I be?"

"There is the Malfoy I know." Ginny smirked.

"Typical." He muttered it as he maneuvered around her once more, but Ginny was a persistent witch.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Draco sighed, and motioned for the two of them to find a more private area. As he walked toward the outskirts of a group of trees away from the shops, he transfigured a tree stump into a chair before summoning it. He preferred not towering over her for this conversation. Ginny did not relax her wand hand until he sat and tucked his own wand away.

She then cast a few charms herself. He was not familiar with them, and Ginny saw the intrigue. "These are some of the spells 'Mione used during the war to hide in plain sight." Draco's eyebrow arched in recognition to her skill. "We are now safe. Speak."

"You are more comfortable around _your_ notion of who I am, and are currently antagonizing me because my gratitude a moment ago does not fit your archetype of a villain."

Draco watched the witch's face contort from confused to surprised. He knew the moment she realized that although she had saved him from the attack, her lack of acting on her own prejudices against him was a fine line between her and the caster.

However, she could afford her pride. She neither apologized for her assumption of his character nor acknowledged her new understanding. Instead, she offered an olive branch in the form of information.

"'Mione often talked about a wizard named Leo. I encouraged it because when she did, she was her old self again. Two nights ago she Apparated to my flat, demanding I fix her up with a wizard with a reputation." Her eyes drifted to the side as her voice trailed. Malfoy waited.

"I asked her what happened to Leo, and she began hexing my things!" Ginny chuckled. "It took her some time to calm down. I must tell you though, she inadvertently taught me two new spells I would _love_ to try." Her smile faded when she met his eyes. "She told me who Leo truly was. Imagine my surprise." Ginny's eyes narrowed, but Draco remained stoic.

The witch was not Hermione; she waited patiently for Draco to speak next.

When the silence became uncomfortable (it didn't take long), Ginny stood, threatening to walk away. The wizard sighed once more, and broke their silence. "Weasley, what did she say about me?"

"No, Malfoy, that's not how our little game works. I was quiet because it is your turn to talk. What did you do to make 'Mione hex all my things?"

"There are simple charms that repair hexed items. I—"

" _Malfoy_!"

"Weasley, you are asking for intimate information. If Granger did not discuss anything with you, than I will respect her privacy and do the same."

Ginny smiled. "Intimate?"

He returned to stoicism. Weasley tapped her finger against her chin. He watched attentively, unsure of what the witch would do or say. When she smiled devilishly, he relaxed his wand hand, but not his caution.

"Despite your best efforts, Draco Malfoy, I see that you fear me." Her grin spread across her face. "I can't tell if it is because of something you are afraid I'll say, or if you are afraid I'm going to try the two new spells on _you_."

He chose, once again, to deny her a response.

She laughed. "Malfoy, the frustration 'Mione displayed two nights ago was from a witch dissatisfied, _sexually_. I am debating whether you led her on, or if you couldn't satisfy her. Based on your inability to answer simple questions, I am led to believe you couldn't sati—"

"I led her on, to both our dissatisfaction."

Ginny's eyes widened, but she recovered quickly. "Her hexes were quite emotional. You must have done some pretty naughty things before you stopped. She never behaved this way with Ron." Draco chose not to respond to her comment. He turned his head and examined a tree branch.

"Merlin. You must be incredible at seduction because you don't seem to have any other attractive qualities." Draco smirked at the transparent Gryffindor. Her antagonism produced no reaction.

"I grew up with six older brothers. I know what it means when a wizard refuses to talk about a witch." This time it was Ginny who instigated the silence. Draco watched a leaf fall from its branch and he could swear he heard it hit the ground.

"I don't approve."

He turned and finally looked at her directly. Her arms were crossed and her face stern. "I don't need your approval."

"But you like 'Mione, and you forget the strong tie to loyalty we Gryffindors have. When I tell her about this encounter—"

"And why would you do that?" Draco stood, angered by what seemed like the start of blackmail. "If she kept me hidden from you, then perhaps you should recalibrate your friendship. I have been seeing Granger for months now. I know the secrets she keeps from Potter and Weasel, and even you. Perhaps I am her best friend now. That would put her loyalty to me at the top of her hierarchy, wouldn't it, Weasley?"

Ginny was not intimated by the towering, angry wizard. She glared at him and stated, with a hardened voice, "If you were so important to her, then why is she currently on a date with a _decent_ wizard?"

Draco grabbed the witch by both biceps and shook her. "You introduced her to a wizard!"

Ginny stunned him, causing him to fall back into the transfigured chair. She kept her wand pointed at his face as she spoke. "Yes, I did. One that will give her what she wants— _tonight_ —without frustration."

He raised his wand, but she was faster. " _Expelliarmus_!" With his wand in her hand, she relaxed her own so he could once again see her face. "Tell me, Draco Malfoy, why were you so angry just now?"

"Where is she?"

Ginny shook her head. "Tsk, tsk. You really need to start answering questions when I ask them, or I will force you to."

Draco's eyes widened. He didn't know the witch well enough to distinguish between truth and bluff. "I'm interested in Granger, Weasley. You already know this."

"Yes, but what I don't know is in what _way_ you are interested. Do enlighten me." She flicked her wand and transfigured the fallen leaves around her into a chair before sitting across from Draco. She held a wand in each hand, and tapped them against her crossed legs. "I'm waiting…"

In that moment, Draco decided Ginny Weasley was as likeable as a Dementor. "What can I say to satisfy your brutish need to taunt me?"

Ginny smiled. "The truth. It's pretty simple, really. In what way are you interested in Hermione Granger?"

Draco clenched his jaw and stared at his wand in the cruel witch's hand as she tapped it against her thigh. She raised her wand hand. "Careful, Malfoy." Draco sat back in his chair to calm her. As he did, he noticed faint markings on Ginny's wand arm.

"This is a conversation reserved for Granger and myself." He glanced at her briefly, to judge her reaction.

"You Slytherins make everything so difficult." She uncrossed her legs and began to swish her wand.

"Wait!" Draco held his hand out. He glanced at her wand arm once more.

"Well?"

"I will answer you if you can tell me why you are so interested in my response. An answer for an answer, if you will."

Ginny squinted her eyes. He broke character and squinted back. The move made her laugh. "'Mione doesn't want to invest her time in a wizard that doesn't want all of her."

"She told you that, did she?" He smiled, genuinely.

The smile cautioned Ginny, and she gripped both wands tightly. "Your turn, Malfoy. What do you want from her?"

Draco stood, towering the witch. "I want my wand back."

Ginny flicked her wand and stood up as Malfoy flinched at the stun she sent to his fingers. "You owe me an answer."

She was where he wanted her. With his Seeker speed, Draco lunged at the witch, pushing her to the ground. He pinned both hands out and held her wrists before climbing on top of her.

"Malfoy! What are you doing! HELP!"

"No one will hear you. Not with your clever spells." He squeezed her left wrist until she dropped his wand. Draco grabbed it and cast before she could think of a counter. Ginny struggled on the ground against the rope binding her body. He grabbed her wand.

"Malfoy, you are going to regret this."

"I doubt it." He summoned his chair and sat, observing her. She growled in frustration. Draco looked around to the passersby on the street and shops. No one seemed to have heard them. "You really are a clever witch. We may as well be invisible." He flicked his wand and released her binding.

Ginny stood, uncertain. "What are you planning?" There was a twinge of fear in her voice.

"I'm not planning. I'm waiting."

 **A/N: Please forgive me if this is not the chapter you were waiting for. I promise to deliver a steamy next chapter!**

 **Finding time to write has become difficult, especially since I like to write full chapters in one sitting. I would like to give special thanks to those that leave reviews. It really does help a novice like myself. Thank you guest 47, rezakeene, Dyan23, stephalopolis09, White Bishop, Msashleyz, and I was BOTWP.**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: I would like to give appreciation to the reviews. hoshiakari7, rezakeene, Guest, nyanata, and White Bishop, thank you for your reviews and giving me a lot to ponder. Although I do have the story completely mapped out, your reviews remind me of perspective. I was BOTWP, thank you for your honesty. Hopefully you will forgive Draco in this chapter. In addition, your question about transfiguring a tree stump was quite valid. I guess I had taken the easy rode and just assumed everything was taken care of through magic.**

 **WARNING: This chapter is for Mature Audiences only.**

"What are you waiting for?" Her voice no longer waivered as her courage returned.

Draco reflected on her words. _'Mione doesn't want to invest her time in a wizard that doesn't want all of her_. He wondered at how their complemented thoughts failed to produce a mutually agreeable result. Malfoy stared at the witch before him, perplexed.

His expression changed the balance between them, and Ginny's body straightened with a measured confidence. "She is most likely meeting her wizard now."

Draco glanced at the witch's wand arm once more. Her faint markings were now a well-defined scar. "You are, without a doubt, correct." Her eyes widened at his confirmation. "I'm curious, what is the purpose?"

"Purpose? You can't be serious!" She laughed, but there was no pleasure behind it.

His eyes traced her form, searching for familiarity. "In just a moment, I'm going to place both our wands on this chair and I'm going to travel my tongue over your body. I'll give special attention to this area here, and here." He used their wands to point to her chest and midsection.

"I had no idea you were that kind of wizard, Malfoy." He had expected a reaction, but not the one she gave. Her eyes were calculating— _too_ calculating. Draco knew he would lose their next confrontation if he did not ease her thoughts.

"I'm not that kind of wizard. I would never force a witch." Her green eyes and red hair darkened. "And I _was_ serious. What is the purpose of the Polyjuice, Granger?" Simultaneously, Hermione gasped as the rest of Ginny's features diminished. Preoccupied with touching her bushy hair and scar, she failed to notice Malfoy send a silent _Scourgify_ her way. As promised, he placed their wands on his chair and took two steps to her. He smirked, reading her eyes as she tried to figure out how she revealed herself prematurely. Her puzzled expression kept him from acting immediately. He debated over making her wait for an explanation, but he had questions of his own.

"It was your scar. I saw the beginnings of it when you were pointing your wand at my face." As he spoke, his hands slithered up the sides of her waist. "Did you really ask Weasley for a wizard?"

His touch returned shared lascivious memories of two nights before. Hermione nodded before she spoke. "Yes."

Malfoy's body tensed. "And did you meet him?"

She shook her head and swallowed her desire to succumb to his touch. "Tonight."

"No." His stern voice rejuvenated Granger. He saw the flame spark in her eyes as she stepped out of his light embrace.

"No? And why not? Our deal in Australia was that you give me a life changing night of pleasure. It's been a month and you have only accumulated debt on that account."

Draco used her own words as ammunition. "Do you believe you would have fully _invested_ in the pleasure of one night of passion?" Although both sexually deprived, it was in no means balanced. His decision to embark on a conversation other than sex was ill-timed.

"Yes! Merlin's balls, yes!" She threw her arms up in the air and growled. "I am sexually frustrated, you brainless flobberworm!" Her eyes glanced, briefly, to her wand. "You are all about seduction, but you never finish the job! I would think you incapable, if I had not licked your hardened penis in Australia." In a calmer tone, she said, "I think I actually hate you right now."

It was enough. Draco understood his failings. He had teased, seduced, and frustrated his witch to her breaking point. His selfishness in wanting her love was in fact, a contribution to guaranteeing the contrary. Despite how he might be able to procure her affection in the future, pleasing her now was his only way to maintain her attachment. Perhaps he would win her love through his ability. It was a feeble notion, but he could not expunge it.

As she exhaled loudly, he lunged at her, claiming her mouth. He pulled her flush, deepening the kiss as his hands moved from her back to her bum. Draco squeezed her cheeks and pushed her into him, emphasizing his intention. She had yet to touch him, though she returned his kiss. He understood her hesitation, and pulled his mouth away. "Granger, no more waiting. I'm going to fill you over and over again all night. You will be throbbing tomorrow morning, as your body remembers my touch. But it won't be enough. There are too many ways to please you. I'm going to need more than one night. I might need months." He moved his right hand underneath her robe and clothing, pulling her bra over her left breast. As he spoke, he messaged her softly. "Can you give me months, my deprived little witch?"

Panting, she nodded. "No more waiting." He pinched her nipple gently and she let out a surprised moan.

"Do you have your journal?" He moved his left hand, searching for a way to get to her core.

"No." She moved her hands to his biceps and squeezed.

The beginning of a verbal altercation outside a shop momentarily interrupted their moment.

"As enticing as it is, making love in the open is not suitable for our first time. May I suggest we go to your place?" He returned both hands to her back and pulled her close once more. As he licked her neck, smiling briefly while she sighed, he lifted her legs around him and walked to their wands. "Grab our wands, Granger. Get us out of here."

In her own flat, Hermione gained command. Latched on to Draco still, she pointed to her bedroom before dancing her tongue on his neck. He moaned into the feel, and pulled her into his pelvic thrust. When she pointed once more to her bedroom, he laughed and began walking. He tossed her on the bed and began to disrobe. She swished her wand at them both, casting, " _Evanesco_." Her inability to cast silently spurred his ego.

Now both naked, he stroked himself as he observed her. Hermione acknowledged her command over him as she slowly opened her legs and massaged her breasts. "Seduce me, Draco Malfoy. Come take what you want. As long as you bring me pleasure, I won't protest." She plucked at her nipple and grinned devilishly when he hardened more. "But one request. No journal. You don't get help this first time. Everything I feel has to come directly from you."

He did not verbally respond. He couldn't. Instead, he nodded and moved over her, kissing her lips gently before making his way to her breasts. Hermione transferred her hands to his back, massaging him as he began to suck on her hardened nipple. He traced her body with his hands, all the while suckling on her perky breast. When he began to lick her peak, she moaned and wrapped her legs around him. He moved to her other breast, mirroring his prior attention as she moved her hands up his back and into his hair. When Hermione began to push herself rhythmically against him, Draco sucked on her breast as he pulled away.

He lifted himself, despite her struggle to pull him back down, and stared at the lust-filled witch beneath him. Her hair wildly flowed over her pillow and bedsheets. As he pushed aside a strand of curls across her forehead, her darkened eyes pleaded. "More, Draco. Stop looking at me."

She did not love him, or the intimacy he currently felt would have been met with equanimity.

He smiled, weakly, before continuing his seduction. "Granger, I would very much like to thrust my tongue inside you again. Can I lick your walls and play with your sensitive clit?"

"Merlin yes." He traced his tongue between her breasts as he made his way down. "But if you stop, I swear I will hex you."

Draco paused. He lifted his head and met hers. "I will only stop so I can truly fill your willing body. You haven't had dick in some time, Granger. You have forgotten its pleasures."

She gasped and dropped her head to her pillow, looking up to her ceiling. "If you don't deliver, I swear I will hex you."

He chuckled before tracing down to her clitoris. Slowly, he circled it with his tongue. She moaned and wrapped her legs around him, pushing herself into him. Her lack of control inversely fed his command of his senses. He continued to gently lick her, occasionally pressing his tongue harder against her clit. The move elicited a very wanton groan from his wet witch, and he knew this was a move to be repeated in their foreplay often. Finally, to Granger's relief, his tongue moved downward and he traced her labia as she thrust herself against him, displaying her impatience. When he entered her, he twisted his tongue so it slid against her walls.

"Oh fuck!" She was panting. "Don't stop, Draco. Don't you dare stop!" She gripped his hair so hard it hurt, but he did as instructed. He began to thrust in and out of her with his tongue, occasionally breaking the rhythm to trace her walls or suck and lick her clit. It didn't take long before a heavy release of fluid flooded his mouth. He instantly pulled back as she protested loudly to his removal.

He crawled up her body, lining himself to her opening. "I promised you a climax on my first thrust, Granger." He moved his hand down and began to massage her clit. She arched her back and groaned loudly. "I intend to keep that promise. He prodded his head against her fully lubricated opening and rested it there as he increased the pace of his finger on her clit. When her long groan transformed into staccato pants, he thrust into her, pushing her body further up the bed. Hermione screamed, releasing the pleasure that had built up in her in the only way she could. Draco watched silently, taking in her seductive orgasm cry as he pushed into her again and again. At first, she had clung her arms and legs to him, but as her body weakened, he slowed his pumping until his erect penis only sheathed her.

The throbbing of her walls kept him hard, and he very much desired to spill his seed inside her. However, he was not sure of how welcome the idea would be. He bent down and licked her right breast. Hermione's eyes were shut, but she shuddered and smiled. "Granger, I haven't completely claimed your body, yet."

She opened her eyes and wrinkled her brow before wiggling her midsection. "You're still _inside_ me, Malfoy. What do you mean you haven't completely claimed me?"

He pushed himself further into her, causing her to move even further up her bed. She wrapped her legs around him, welcoming the move. "You like how this feels, eager witch?" He pushed again, this time gently. "Do you want me to keep you filled with my wizardhood?" He pushed again, and this time her head hit her headboard. He bent and began to lick her left breast.

Hermione would have answered sooner, but his seduction had left her breathless. "Yes," she exhaled. She grabbed his hair again, holding his head to her breast as he began to suckle her. "This feels…so good."

Draco smiled before continuing his attention to her. As he began to thrust into her in a steady pace, her moans reminded him of his purpose. He paused all movement and pulled away from her breast. "I don't like how you tease me," she responded.

"Granger, to get back to what I was saying, I haven't claimed you yet. Next time, I plan on filling you up with my wizard's brew, as they say."

Hermione's eyes widened before she smiled up at him. "I'm on the pill. I have been for over a month."

"I don't understand what that means, Granger. Is it some Muggle term?"

She moved her hips, indicating desire. "Mm-hm." When he continued to stare at her, she explained further. "Think of it like a potion witches take to prevent pregnancy." She pushed against the headboard and tightened her legs around him, allowing deeper penetration.

The move elicited a groan from Draco and a smile from Hermione. "That is good enough for me. I don't think we need to talk anymore tonight, do you?"

To answer him, she shook her head and pulled his head to her breast. Although consummated, their relationship was by no means defined. The void of affectionate intimacy remained in the back of his thoughts. Though Granger proved receptive of all his seductions, he could feel the line she drew between sex and everything else. There were too many questions unanswered, and he knew it was consequence of war, of pain, and even disappointment. He would have to find the light within his broken witch, but it was all for another time. Tonight, she wanted nothing short of sexual gratification, and to his fortune, Draco knew how to compensate for her years of frustration. As he began to thrust into her, finding a rhythm once more, he bent down again to suckle her perfect breast. He had many questions, but there was no question as to how he would please her next.

 **A/N: If you enjoyed this chapter, thank my muse. ;)**


	24. Chapter 24

Day would not wait patiently for their night of passion to conclude; Hermione's room was fully lit by natural light when Draco removed himself from her bed. As he slowly, meticulously dressed, he raised his eyes to her disheveled state. Sitting up, she had already been watching him. Amidst the quiet, he realized they had not yielded a true conversation all night. If her current state revealed anything, it was a witch fully sated. He ventured dialogue.

"Why were you the Weaslette?"

Hermione grinned. "I was undercover."

"As a highly prolific, professional Quidditch player?"

"I had no other choice."

He paused in buckling his belt to interrogate her silently, doubtful of her response.

She pulled her sheet tighter against her chest. "I won't tell you why, if that is the reason for your stare."

Draco looked down at his hands as he continued to dress. "Is it a dangerous mission?"

Her sheets rustled, gently. "All my missions carry the possibility of danger." She was quiet again, and he could hear her thinking. "Will you come to me again tonight?"

He pulled his robes over his clothes and met her stare. Her eyes were the same color as honey when the light hit them directly. He shifted his focus to her wild hair before raking in her body one last time. He nodded, and she smiled, bashfully. Draco had never witnessed that smile before, and when considering all the naughty things he had done to her that night, he was at a loss to its reason. He walked to the Aparation point in her living area. As he raised his wand, he saw Hermione in his periphery. Draco turned and looked at the witch, raising a perplexed brow.

Hermione, wrapped in her sheet, leaned against the wall. "I-I just wanted to say thank you."

He nodded.

"I hear and read about how great sex is all the time, but I had never experienced it."

Malfoy lowered his wand.

"I-I mean, what I am trying to say is that was an incredible…what you made me feel…the orgasms are so much better when..." Embarrassed by her broken confession, she covered her blushing face.

He sighed. The witch had ruined a perfectly good departure. "Granger, I know all of this already. Your _body_ told me all of this."

She uncovered her face. "I can understand now, why so many witches are confused after sex. The way you seduced me last night, it would have been so easy to think we were in love."

 _It would have been so easy to think we were in love_. He knew this would not be the only time these words would pierce him. Draco could not confess now that what she experienced was the worship of a wizard in love. But there was something in her statement, the ease in which she stated it, that made him question if she was a witch that _could_ fall in love. "Granger, the intimacy is exponentially greater when love is involved."

As he Aparated, he thought he heard a gasp, but it was hard to determine with the cracking sound accompanying his disappearance.

In the safety of his manor, Draco released his emotions. He sat at the head of an elongated table, sighing deeply with his hands over his face.

"Ah. Young Malfoy has been met with disappointment, yet again." Draco paused. He recognized that voice. "Do not tell me the friendship you so coveted a few months prior escapes you still?" He silently cursed his ignorance of the many portraits in the room. In the presence of his ancestor, Draco straightened himself and masked his true countenance. "I do not believe, Sir, that I know your name."

The handsomely painted wizard attacked the request in true Slytherin fashion. "Young Malfoy, you do not know my name because you did not extend the courtesy of soliciting it upon our first meeting." He was not in his own painting, and the witch with whom he shared the frame looked on with disdain.

Draco desired none other than to be left alone. He balled his fist under the table. "Sir, I solicit you now, so in our current and future conversations, we will be known to one another."

"Oh, for the love of all curses impervious! Imagine a Malfoy not knowing his ancestry! What has become of us?" An old witch in a painting on the opposite wall had decided to join the conversation. She spilled her wine on her painted floor as she dramatically protested his ignorance. Several other paintings began to stir, eager to submit their opinions. It was enough. Draco stood and excused himself to all his eavesdroppers before finding solitude in his study.

He forgot the small portrait of his grandfather, Abraxus Malfoy, remained in a drawer until he heard muffled sounds coming from his desk. For a moment, he contemplated the confines of his portrait free bedroom. Sighing, Draco walked over to the desk and revealed the painting to the room.

The move appeased the portrait. "I am Prospero Malfoy, and I have been watching you. You have no need to introduce yourself, Draco. I have known you since birth. I have watched you suffer and grow, and suffer still. Tell me, when will your penance be paid?"

Inexplicably, Draco was reminded of Professor Snape. He gave Prospero his full attention, though he chose not to reply. The painting laughed at his silence and answered himself. "You cannot answer? Then your guilt is heavier than I had surmised. A plague brought upon our house, an indirect purchase of our centuries of wrong-doings. Young Malfoy may be the last of our line."

"You assume much, Sir." Draco's face remained stoic, but a Malfoy read stoicism well.

"Perhaps. The 'friendship' you sought, it did not begin well?"

"Why do you desire to know my story?"

"I thought it obvious; I am bored. No painting here can hold a conversation. You should confide, young heir. I have no one to tell your secrets and a wealth of knowledge to share."

Draco searched the painting. "Where is my grandfather?"

"Abraxus' interests are of grandeur. He does not frequent a frame of this insignificant size."

Draco paused in thought. He prided his self-sufficiency, yet the idea of a confidant was not unwelcome. "I believe it was the best start possible, under the circumstances."

What Prospero found amusing eluded him, but the wizard chuckled briefly before responding. "You mean she was a foe, or a witch of repellent birth?"

He chose his next words carefully. "We fought on opposing sides."

Prospero's mind was too quick. "You are friends with the Granger witch?"

"How—"

"Do not insult my intelligence. You are of noble blood, you will of course be attracted to nobility. She is the face of the new nobility."

"Wh—"

"We Malfoys adapt quickly. I was alive in the 1690s, when the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy became law. I had several Muggle acquaintances prior to 1692, but none after. Adapting is how we have survived and conquered. You have me to thank for your status today." His proud smile confounded Draco. Denying Muggle relations in 1692 could not parallel befriending a Muggle-born post war unless they were considered transactions rather than moral choices. He questioned why his ancestor would boast of adapting, and empathize with guilt and penance within the same conversation.

Prospero did not reveal any clarity in the juxtaposition with his next words. "I can sense our conversation is coming to its death. Allow me to give you some advice that may live on." Draco almost rolled his eyes at the dramatic portrait. "If you want a stronger bond with this witch, imagine how she sees you."

Dubious to the advice, he dared not appear disrespectful. "Thank you," Draco replied. He bowed and left the room, determined to remove all portraits to his least favorite wing of the manor.

 **A special thanks to all the reviews from SassenachStarbuck, hoshiakari7, White Bishop, I was BOTWP, nynata, HarryPGinnyW4eva, rezakeene, and IxxSolemnyxxSwear. Many of you expressed concerns for Draco (I'm sorry to break your heart a little, SassenachStarbuck, and thank you White Bishop for the male perspective). It is hard not revealing Hermione's perspective prematurely, but this is Draco's story, and I can only let the reader know what he knows. Please don't give up on them!**


	25. Chapter 25

Draco had not expected the welcome he received upon apparating to Granger's flat. She had been waiting for him, it seemed, by her nakedness and the swiftness of her attack. Her hands were running through his hair as she sniffed his neck before commenting, "I miss this smell on my body."

His reaction was instinctual as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush, moving one hand toward the back of her neck while the other slipped down her backside. She had pulled her hair back, permitting easy access to her neck as he reciprocated her form of seduction. Running his nose across her neck, he inhaled deeply and responded, "Let us mark each other immediately, then." She giggled as he squeezed her butt cheek and Draco wondered at the direction their night was taking. Unlike all their previous lust-filled interludes, she seemed to solicit a playfulness tonight. The liveliness of her attitude and the eagerness for his smell allowed him hope. He decided to test her mood. "Tell me, my sexy witch, what part of your body smells the least like me, and needs claiming first?" He released his hold to step back and examine her beauty, but Hermione tightened her grip in his hair and pulled his head to hers, kissing him with a need he dared not question. He traced his hand down her waist to her thighs. She had anticipated the move and leapt on him, wrapping her thighs tautly around his waist. She let out a sigh as she pushed her tongue into his and moved her opened, naked midsection against his clothed but hardened penis. Draco enjoyed this sexually aggressive Granger far too much to spare a moment as he began to carry her to her room. Their lips did not break contact as he walked—a misplaced decision when considering the manner in which Hermione decorated.

He stumbled over a pile of books causing a forward fall to her floor. She would have been injured more had he not tried to brace their impact, extending one hand out as the other held her. As it happened, Hermione was stabbed in the back by a hard book cover which stung greatly. Draco suffered a fractured wrist.

Unfortunately, the fall quickly expunged them of their lust.

As she flinched and rubbed her back, she sat upright and turned to him. He was already on his knees, holding his wrist as he stared at her. "Are you alright?"

"I feel betrayed, but besides that, I have suffered far worse. You?" She was assessing the movement of his hand around his wrist.

He smiled at her slight for her love of books while he fumbled in his robe for a potion in his pocket. She moved closer to him and slid her hands inside his robe. "What potion am I looking for?"

He paused in his movement to observe her. Hermione's breasts bounced slightly as she moved her hands against his robe. She was focused, but the moment felt intimate in a way he could not explain with words. With his good hand, he lifted her chin. She stopped her search, her eyes full of questions. Draco lowered himself and touched his lips against hers, gently. He thought he saw watery eyes as he pulled away, but she once again busied herself looking for his potion.

"It's in my left pocket, blue potion."

She pulled it out and held it up to the light, examining it before looking back at him. "What potion is this?"

"It is my own concoction, Granger. I call it Skele-mend." She laughed, confusing him. "What is so funny about the name?"

Hermione handed him the potion and moved away from him. "Nothing is funny about the name. I was just reminded of the time Professor Lockhart tried to mend Ron's broken arm and instead he removed the bone." She laughed again. "It wasn't funny then, but for some reason it is funny now."

"And that is precisely why I use a potion instead of a spell. Spells can go wrong."

She stopped laughing. "So can potions."

"Not when I concoct them." He smirked at her. "Granger, you have examined it long enough. Please hand me my potion so I can heal."

Instead of the potion, she stood and offered her hand. He stared at her, dubious to her motive. "You are making me feel uncomfortable, Draco."

He grabbed her hand and stood. She did not release his hand, and instead led him to her room. "Granger, contrary to popular belief, a broken wrist does hurt. It also needs mending."

"I know that." She led him to her bed and gently pushed him down. As he lay there, looking at her ceiling, he felt her hands travel to his trousers, causing him to raise his head and watch her. "I am a little disappointed our moment was lost, and since I am feeling brave, I suggest you not question my actions." She removed her hands from his body and retrieved her wand before casting away his clothes.

He dropped his head and looked back at her ceiling. "Since when do Gryffindors _feel_ brave? I had assumed it was a perpetual—"

Her tongue pressed against his flaccid penis would deflect any wizard from his current thought. He raised his head in time to see her wrap her mouth around him and slide down so her lips pressed against his pubic bone. The image aroused him, and he wondered if Granger could take all of him in like that if he was fully erect. As he hardened, she slid her mouth up and down a few more times before removing her mouth and licking his length. She circled his shaft with her tongue before sitting upright. He wanted to tell her to continue, but the move surprised him and pleasured him enough to leave him speechless.

"Here is your potion. I thought I could distract you while you healed." She levitated the blue vial to him as he subconsciously pushed his pelvis up in need for more of her. She smiled at his desire and moved her hand to hold him, pumping him too slowly as she spoke. "Drink up, Draco." She moved her other hand to insert a finger inside herself before pulling it out and showing the fluid to him. "Look how much my body needs to be filled. Hurry and drink up. I want much more of last night." After the imperative she bent back down and wrapped her mouth around his full erection. She couldn't engulf all of him as she had previous, but the tight grip of her mouth lubricating him with her motions sufficed.

He drank the potion and dropped his head, letting out a low moan. "Granger, it only takes minutes for me to heal." He said it to appease her need, but she understood something different.

"Is that a challenge, Draco Malfoy?" He could not suppress the smile, nor the groan he released soon after when her mouth closed around him once again. While she bobbed, one hand traced up his thigh to his chest as she splayed her hand across it. There was a cold trail left on his body from the path her wet middle finger made against his skin. It seduced him as he thrust himself into her unexpected mouth. She gagged, unprepared to take more of him.

"Sorry Granger." He lifted his head to see her reaction, but she was focused and already running her tongue around his head. The sight of the petite witch, bent over him with her bottom in the air, eyeing his penis as she held him and licked him stirred Draco to heightened desires. He was glad she had chosen to pull her hair back, else he would have been denied such a lovely view. He sat up, forcing her to crawl forward to keep him in her mouth. "Fuck!"

She paused to laugh while his dick remained inside her, only causing him to want her more. When she began to move up and down again, he traced her back and moved his hands to cup her breasts. He messaged them, softly before gently pinching her nipples simultaneously. The move elicited a groan from Hermione and she began to move faster, in rhythm with her hand, which had wrapped around his base. He kept his left fingers pinched on her nipple as his right hand traced down her back and to her cheeks. As he squeezed her bum, he said lowly, "I'm fully healed now, Granger."

She responded by traveling to the tip and pushing her tongue against his opening before pulling away. "I thought you would want me to finish." She was upright, her knees spread open before him. His hands had strayed from her nipple and backside to grip her waist.

"I do." He pulled her midsection over him. "But I want to enter you more." With that, he forced her hips down as he thrust himself up, aggressively joining their bodies. She let out a cry, but her collapse on to him was one of immense pleasure. Draco smirked at the conquest and held her hips as he pushed his pelvis up. "Granger, you are so wet. I didn't know sucking me would be such an efficient lubricant."

She was breathing hard against his chest. "Well, now you do."

The comment was too much; he could feel himself losing control. "Granger, I can't wait. I'm sorry." He pounded into her, feeling her breasts bounce with his forceful rhythm before succumbing to his release in a few more thrusts.

She remained on top of him as his energy drained. He rubbed his fingertips across her back, feeling her heart beat against his chest. Neither spoke.

As their bodies cooled, his ability to speak renewed. He pulled his shrinking penis out of her and was surprised she protested the move, laying at his side. "I'm sorry, Granger."

She let out a staccato laugh. "Sex can still be good, even if I don't finish." The statement puzzled him and he turned sideways on her bed to face her. "I'm hesitant to admit this, but I liked how much you needed my body."

He remained stoic, partly because he was at a loss to how to interpret her comment.

"With that said, I have a favor to ask." She turned to face him, running her hand along his collarbone.

"Your timing is appropriate; I am in your debt."

A small smile graced her lips, but she would not meet his eyes. "I want you to come with me when I visit my parents tomorrow."

"You should tell me about these visits in advance, Granger."

"You obviously don't know how the MLE works. We get a specific amount of time off with every completed mission. Before the rule was enacted, several Aurors were making tiny mistakes and ruining missions because of exhaustion. I completed my mission this afternoon. One of my easier ones, actually." She dropped her hand.

"How long is the visit?"

"I have four days off."

"Is this what you do with every holiday?"

When she responded, it was almost a whisper. "It is the only time I can see them. You should understand why I find it so precious."

He thought about his upcoming meetings. He would have to reschedule with Dr. Shiang. "I can come." She sighed and grinned. He had not realized she thought he would deny her. "Is there new information I should know?"

"No. We are still couple very much in love." With that statement, she placed her head and hand atop his chest. Her stray hairs tickled his neck. The move reminded Draco of a dim memory of something familiar. He embraced her in a physical attempt to retrieve a clearer recollection.

The hold had a different effect on Hermione as her hand strayed down his body. "Draco," she began. "I need more." She kissed his neck, pushing herself into him. "There are still places your scent has not claimed."

Despite her seductive words, something in the back of his memory kept trying to resurface. It bothered him that he was at a loss. But then Granger grabbed his hair and pulled him down to her right breast. As he suckled her, other needs trumped the cloudy memory. He rubbed his hands against her back before pushing her into him. She moaned quietly and wrapped a leg around him.

"Draco," she said breathlessly. "Stay with me tonight. Don't go home. We can leave for Perth from here. I still have all your Muggle clothes."

He switched his attention to her left breast, circling her nipple before licking it. "Whatever you want, Granger."

 **A/N: Special thanks to hoshiakari7, guest 47, and rezakeene for the reviews. MaidenAlice, you made me laugh. HarryPGinnyW4eva and I was BOTWP, the next chapter will be what you have been waiting for.**


	26. Chapter 26

Draco contemplated his current situation and wondered at its need for complexity. Love, he had thought, should be simple, but his own observations and experience battled his opinion. His mother's love for his father trapped her in her own home as she was forced to be hostess to a wizard she despised. It was also her love that held his father together when he was belittled and humiliated by a wizard he had once followed blindly. It was her love that saved him in the Final Battle, and kept her husband from a long stint in Azkaban. But what had his father offered her in return? He often wondered what his father owned of his character that bound his mother's love to him. The question would never be answered because it would never be asked. Malfoys did not explain such frivolity as love. He wished it wasn't so; he needed to understand how to make Hermione Granger love him and was at a loss as to how to put that need in motion.

"Your quiet is distracting." He turned to his right, raising a brow at her statement.

"How so, Granger?" She had not pulled her hair back, and the puffiness kept him from a full view of her face.

"Because I can hear you thinking."

"If you can hear me, then it is not the quiet that distracts you." He turned to look back out the window as he stretched his legs. The amount he paid for their first-class seating was well worth it juxtaposed to his prior flight discomfort.

In her silence, he began to retrace his thoughts, but she interrupted him once more. "No, I guess you are right." Draco turned to look at her again, and watched as she shuffled through her small bag. Extension charms were underrated.

She pulled out two journals, identical to the ones they shared, and jealousy began to birth within him as he observed her open one, examine it, then choose the other. With narrowed eyes, he watched her begin to write. He casually opened his own bag to see if his journal glowed. It did not.

"Granger," he said, dangerously soft. "To whom do you write?"

She did not look up as she answered. "Myself."

The only sound between them was her transfigured pen scratching on the journal pages. She wrote quickly. His jealousy mounted, despite her answer. "Why would you need a charmed journal to write to yourself?"

She paused, finally hearing the emotion behind his question and looked up. He watched as her eyes widened briefly when she understood the confusion of her actions. She twitched her wand and whispered _Muffliato_ before facing him. "I returned to the shop, wondering what other charmed parchments that talented witch offered. Did you know she was named after her great aunt who was a spy in World War II? We had a delightfully informative conversation about various uses of charmed parchment. I enjoyed talking to her more as myself."

His stare deterred her from further tangents in her explanation. She cleared her throat before changing the tone in her voice. "This one works like a mild form of Verituserum. I am testing its abilities before I submit it to the MLE Department as a possible interrogation tool. This parchment is in fact, Ms. Hallowes first prototype."

"I presume she was honored to have a member of the Golden Trio test her product."

Hermione smiled nervously. "Well, as I said, it was much easier talking to her as myself."

"As a proprietor, she also understood how to market her product, and the advantage of a member of the Ministry testing it."

"Yes, well…it is beneficial for both parties." He nodded in agreement. Granger took the motion as an end to their conversation as she repositioned herself to face forward and continue her work.

Although curious about the parchment, he knew Granger's inability to embargo a conversation on such an intriguing topic would play to his advantage. He sat, waiting for her impatience to explain to overcome her.

He miscalculated her. She sat, scribbling vivaciously in her journal while he became a passive onlooker. Her voluminous writing and his patience had an indirect relationship. This did not appease his curiosity, but it did give him a new understanding of the bushy-haired witch. He was reminded of her uncharacteristic patience when she was disguised as Ginny Weasley. It seemed Granger's focus to her task at hand disallowed for distractions. If he wanted to know anything, he would need to become part of her study.

"Granger, how are you testing the parchment?"

"Hmm?" She glanced up at him, and her writing hand paused.

"How are you testing the parchment?" He turned his body and curled his right knee on his seat.

"A simple binary approach. I write a truth, I write a lie." She had hardly paused to explain. He was not appeased with her oversimplification.

"Even lies and truths have a gradient. Granger, there is nothing 'simple' about the approach. I wonder if you are the best choice for this particular task." The insult would have been sufficient for a witch less confident in her abilities. For Hermione, the insult's thin veil at his need for attention was all too transparent.

She closed her journal and placed both it and her transfigured pen back into her bag before turning to face him. "You have my complete attention." She was smiling at him, as if she had discovered a secret he did not know he had revealed. It was very Slytherin of her. He didn't like it.

"Is there a specific reason I am accompanying you to visit your parents?"

"You asked me that last night. The answer is still the same."

"Yes, well you are a completely different witch when you are naked. I just wanted to ask you when you had space in your head for other thoughts." He smiled smugly when she blushed and looked away. He was always more comfortable dominating a conversation.

But then she turned back to him, and that same Slytherin-esque smile returned. "You are completely different when I am naked as well." She pulled out her wand and he quickly readied his. However, he was not the target of her silent cast. They both hid their wands as the flight attendant approached, offering her service.

Without a muffling charm, Draco was hesitant to initiate conversation. The bushy-haired witch had grown too confident. He had not realized how long he was silent, contemplating the new dynamic between them, until she spoke.

"I would like to establish some parameters before we land." He turned and met her honey-brown eyes. They seemed vulnerable, but he could not reason why. His reticence must have been an answer because she continued. "Last time, my parents offered us the choice of one or two rooms. I still think it is proper that we each sleep in separate rooms."

"Why?"

"Because if they knew I was their daughter, it is what they would want." With her courage on display, he felt the return to equilibrium. This was his Gryffindor. The comfort of known roles renewed his Slytherin charm and cleared his thoughts. He finally realized what she liked about being naked in his presence, and he knew how to regain control.

In a soft voice, he replied, "Whatever you want, Granger." Her confused reaction rewarded him, but he coveted more. "What else concerns you?"

"This!" She waved her arms around him. "I can't predict what you are going to do, so please just be predictable and respectful to our established boundaries."

He smiled smugly. "And what, in the name of Merlin, are our established boundaries?"

She huffed and crossed her arms. "You are the one that set them. Perhaps you should revisit your own memories."

Perplexed, he asked, " _I_ set the boundaries? Granger, all I did was promise you carnal pleasure."

"Without-" her eyes widened for the briefest moment before she continued. "Without exception, please behave on this trip."

 _Without_ , he thought. Neither initiated another conversation as the plane landed. Nor did they speak to one another on their drive to her parents' house. Duty called when their driver stopped, and this was a role Draco understood. As he compartmentalized his thoughts and emotions, he promptly exited and held the door open for his faux fiancée. It was an awkward feeling, holding and closing a door the Muggle way. Even stranger still, holding their transfigured luggage. Performing his duty rewarded him more clarity. As he shook Wendell's hand and hugged Monica warmly, those thoughts that kept escaping him a half-hour before became concrete. He turned to Hermione and winked before following her inside, luggage in hand. She glanced at him cautiously before turning and conversing with Monica about her work. Draco repressed a laugh as he heard them discussing teeth, of all things.

"Wendell, do you mind if I set our luggage in our respected rooms?"

"Of course, Draco. Let me help you." He held out his hand to relieve the wizard of half his load. Draco handed him one transfigured luggage and the two walked to Draco's room. "How are things?"

"Things are well. How are your teeth?"

Wendell stopped walking and looked at Draco before bursting with laughter. "My teeth are fine. How are yours?" He continued to laugh, and Draco suspected it was not a question in need of an answer. They entered the familiar room and Wendell asked, "Which one is yours?"

He held up his hand and replied, "This one. Do you mind taking Hermione's to her room? I need a moment to freshen up before joining our party downstairs. Aeroplanes are not very accommodating."

"Of course." He was in the doorway before turning back and adding, "Draco, I am thankful for the happiness you give our Hermione" before shutting the door. The compliment almost persuaded him to change course, but Draco had little opportunity for what he was determined to discover.

He opened her transfigured luggage and retrieved her journals. The first one he opened was the one he sought. He pulled his wand out, pointing it toward the door. " _Colloportus_." He then pointed his wand at the blank pages. " _Revelio_." Hermione's font appeared, and he scanned her words. The witch had been thorough as her writing filled almost two pages. Most of her statements held little appeal as the topics revolved around work. However, as he scrolled her second page, it seemed she was searching for the boundaries and strength of the spell. His sleuthing was rewarded when he read her last few sentences. _I want to fall in love_. _I am in love_. "How do I reveal the lies from the truth?" He had asked himself aloud, and was answered, most unexpectantly.

"It is unfortunate you were not clever enough to discover how. _Carpe Retractum_." A magical rope pulled her journal to her. "I would have been less suspicious had you not winked, Draco Malfoy. You have become careless. What would your Slytherin comrades think of you?"

Draco was swift, understanding her triumphant rant would only lesson her guard momentarily. " _Accio wand_." Hermione gasped as she was pulled to him. He grabbed her wand and threw it on the bed before grabbing her face and caressing it. "Which is the truth, Granger? Do wish for love, or have you found it?" He had never been more eager for an answer.


	27. Chapter 27

**Hoshiakiri7, perhaps this chapter is also a cliffie. Nyanata and White Bishop, thank you for not abandoning me after all these months. I appreciate your reviews and they fed my thoughts as I wrote and rewrote this chapter.**

"It is always a battle for domination between us." Her whispered response held control and power. "Are you so addicted to this that you wish to add an emotional dimension?"

He did not maintain her volume as his condescending response changed the flow of their conversation. "Don't be foolish, _Hermione_. Emotion was the first ingredient to our relationship." He stared at her lips as he said it, unconscious of the act.

"Don't be foolish, _Draco_. Physical need was the first ingredient." He realized she had yet to touch him. It was her stance in their power struggle, and he wished to strip it from her, to conquer her. He slid his hand up the back of her blouse and gently massaged her back as he pulled her flush to him. Her form fit nicely into his, and his body remembered all too well what he had done to hers the night previous.

"Is this the correct amount of physical need for our current relationship? Have I provided enough wit to yield results? All that is lacking is the emotional ingredient." He gently kissed her neck, a move made harder by her abundance of hair. "Are you in love with me, Hermione Granger?"

"We need to return to my parents. Our long absence is impolite."

He laughed softly. "Your refusal to answer a simple question is evidence enough of your answer."

"Is it?" She gently pushed against him, and he released her reluctantly. "You enjoy this conversation for the sake of its unilateral topic. Let us make this balanced. You write in the journal, _I want to fall in love. I am in love._ Only then will I reveal the truths from the lies on the page." She crossed her arms. "Are you so eager to know my truth now?"

He stared at the clever witch, struggling for stoicism. Vulnerability was not a trait he wore well. "What if our answers do nothing but injure both parties?" He had softened his voice, and her response was softer still.

"Then we will finally both have the same understanding of established boundaries."

Draco weighed his odds. He was not confident the petite witch before him was in love, nor could he fathom how to uncover the truth without exposing his own. If this had all been preconceived, she was equal to Salazar himself. He put away his wand. "Give me your quill."

She half-smiled. "Let me retrieve my wand."

"Wand?" Wendell was in the doorway, his right hand in a fist, raised eye-level, and paused in a knocking motion. Distracted by Draco's actions upon opening the door, Hermione had failed to close it.

The witch froze in her movement toward the bed.

"Wendell," Draco said with mustered charm. "I apologize for our long absence. I had mixed up our luggage and Hermione was helping me find my items."

"Was one of the items a wand?" Wendell had lowered his hand, slowly, his expression perplexed.

Draco wanted to respond, but this was Granger's decision. He turned to her, willing her the strength to enter the conversation. She never met his eyes as she stared at her father.

Wendell traced Draco's stare and looked at Hermione. She finally broke her trance and asked, "What would I do with a wand, fa-Wendell?"

He laughed and threw his arms in the air. "I don't know Hermione! Silly aren't I?"

She masked her disappointment with laughter. "I am sorry we have been up here so long. Draco, are we done here?" She turned her attention to the wizard.

"I still have one item I need."

"Can it not wait until after dinner? Monica can be a little grumpy when she has to serve cold food. Being able to converse with the two of you only makes us more impatient for your company."

"Let us go now. Draco, I will help you tonight, before we go to bed." Her eyes spoke a language he could not comprehend as she held out her hand for his.

Much to his chagrin, their moment had been postponed. He found himself in familiar territory as he once again compartmentalized his needs and wants and duty. He grabbed her hand and they followed Wendell to the dining room.

Draco had never coveted a Time-Turner more than while he ate with the Wilkins. The Muggle way of serving food was excruciating and he remained hesitant of answering questions for fear he might reveal his magical identity. Luckily, Granger's garrulous nature saved him on more than one occasion as she explained his profession and hobbies with a ratio of about twenty words to his one.

Both were exposed, however, when Monica stated, "I have been meaning to ask, when is the wedding date? Wendell and I would love to contribute financially to the expense. It is the least we can do to secure Hermione's happiness."

Hermione let out a nervous laugh, but could not summon a response. Their roles switched as Draco was in his element. Pureblood conversations rarely ignored this topic. "Monica, this is a pleasant surprise." He reached for Hermione's hand, as custom of a betrothed Pureblood when speaking on behalf of his future wife. "We will not deny you this pleasure, but I will insist that you not burden yourself. Because of our busy schedules, Hermione and I have been content in just knowing that one day we will be united. For now, there is no date."

"No date?" Wendell appeared affronted. "That is unacceptable. When two people are in love, have the means to marry, and have no obstacles, it is foolish to not complete their union!"

Monica patted her husband's shoulder. "I don't mean to pry, but is there an obstacle preventing you from setting a date? Busy schedules are hardly an excuse."

Draco displayed his charm to the Wilkins. "You both are in the right. Hermione and I will make amends to all those who are not so fortunate by truthfully assessing our obstacles tonight." He squeezed her hand and she nodded. The answer, as ill-crafted as it was, was sufficient for the older couple. Their subjects did not venture toward marriage for the remainder of the evening.

After proper good-nights were said, Hermione turned to Draco. "Do you still need help tonight? I am rather exhausted."

He took her hand and nodded to Monica and Wendell as they turned off all lights and retired to their room. Even with their door shut, he whispered, "Granger, as I said before, your avoidance is my evidence."

"Or," she countered, "I am keeping us from injury."

He stared at her, clenching his jaw. The darkness of the room opposed his attempt at reading her expression. He voided the sense by kissing her, softly, thrice. The first kiss was to uncover her lust. The second was because he had unleashed his. The third kiss was because two was not enough. "Lasciviousness seems to be the only established boundary we understand." She initiated the fourth kiss, almost before he had finished his sentence. It lasted much longer than the previous three. Draco pulled away first, and continued his thought. "But we both know this cannot last, Granger. You either want love, or you have found it. Only one of those can make you happy."

"The same observation holds true for you." She moved away from him, then turned and grabbed the belt buckle on his trousers. "Come," she said as she pulled him toward her. "Let us find our truths."

The house was not familiar in the dark, and Draco drew his wand. " _Lumos_." They made their way to his room. He cast the necessary spells, including a Muggle repellant charm, as she retrieved her wand from the bed and found her quill. Draco took it from her and the only words they exchanged were the ones he wrote on the parchment page of her charmed journal.

 _I want to fall in love._

 _I am in love._

He placed the quill beside the journal and Granger raised her wand. " _Veritus Revelio_."

His eyes never strayed from her sentence _I am in love_ as he willed it to be her truth. Neither sentence disappeared. "Granger—"

"I don't understand…" She turned to him. "Are both statements your truths?" His sentences, like hers, had remained on the page.

"No."

"I don't understand." She waved her wand again, repeating herself.

Draco grabbed her wrist. Her confusion somehow gave him confidence. "Granger, we are ridiculous. We are standing here, face-to-face, looking at a defunct journal to tell us something we can say to one another."

She lowered her wand and exhaled. "I was only following your lead. You are the one that had a purpose for Polyjuice."

He furrowed his brow. "What?"

"You cannot be truthful in your natural state, Malfoy, because you are not comfortable with who you are." He remained silent at the revelation, though deep down he had always known. "Do you want to know why I cannot answer you, but had no problem revealing myself with this journal?" He continued his reticence. "It is because both statements are true. I want to fall in love. I want to fall in love with you, Draco Malfoy, but I can't until you know yourself well enough to be happy. And it sucks because I love the incomplete you as well. But we are not the answer to each other. Not like this. Not when we wrestle for control of every conversation, and raise our wands at the slightest notion of a threat. Not when we bind one another and take pleasure in our dominance."

"Granger—"

"So I guess another truth is that I would rather not be around you anymore. It hurts. Love is not supposed to be complicated. It is not supposed to hurt."

"Hermione—"

She was starting to cry. A fault of her Gryffindor spirit was to deny an audience in her time of pain. She waved her wand and with a crack, Draco was alone.


	28. Chapter 28

**Warning: This chapter has mature content, but it has purpose.**

Solitude afforded him little peace. He had thought her admission of love would cure him, but he was wrong. Granger was accurate in her observation of his incompleteness. But she failed to realize she completed him. She faulted him an inability to conjure happiness, and could not see it was because she was his source. He thrived on matching wits with the brilliant witch, yet she did not seem to share in this pleasure. The further he analyzed, the more discontent he became at the discrepancy with which she viewed their relationship. And yet, with all his frustration, he yearned for her. He wondered if love was indeed, not supposed to be this complicated.

He made his way to her room, cast the necessary spells, and readied himself for bed. He placed his wand strategically on the dresser a few steps from where he would lay. Expunging her wand would only play into her perception of dominance so he took it upon himself to embrace another approach. The moment she entered his presence, he would grant her little opportunity to react offensively. Her processing time was not much longer than his. She apparated into the room simultaneous to his positioning himself on her bed. Anticipating her return, he was quick to his purpose.

"Take my wand, Granger." Her eyes first widened in surprise of his presence, then moved from his form to the path he made with the point of his chin.

She complied with his command, and turned and faced the dresser, but made no move toward it. " _Accio wand_. You surrender before we have begun. Why?"

He stared at her hair, now braided down her back. It was the only side of her she was allowing at the present. Common perspective would be the ally he would seek. "I am stripping you of your weapon as well."

She turned quickly, wand raised. "I think not."

He smiled, half-heartedly, but made no other move. "I think so. You have all the magical dominance. Put my wand where you wish, Granger. Keep it the duration of our stay, if it pleases you." He waited until she silently cast his wand before continuing. "We both know your wand does not obey me. Can we both agree that I am at a magical disadvantage?" She nodded, and he finally stood.

Her head moved up as she followed his eyes. "My weapon is my argument. This is what you have taken from me."

He stepped forward, cautiously. "You are still well armored with wit." He took another step. "We both are." He stepped again, encouraged that she watched him, but made no countermove. "Sorry, Granger, but I cannot forfeit my intellect."

"It is a necessary component to the conversation I sense we are about to have." She laughed, softly, and turned her head to the side. He closed the gap between them and held her face before kissing her with an overwhelming desire. He kissed her forcefully, desperately, and with objective-she would not think anymore tonight. His arms pulled her flush to him, allowing her no freedom of movement. She had exposed his weaknesses, and now he was to return the action, but penetrating her analysis was too formidable a task. He would make her _feel_ what she had made him think.

She pulled away to catch her breath, freeing his mouth to make his way to her neck. When she gasped his name, Draco returned to her lips, ensuring she would not finish her sentence. He was stripping her of her weapon. He lowered his hands to her thighs and lifted her legs around his waist as he carried her to the bed. The move made her more compliant as she returned his kiss with a forceful passion. He lay her on the bed and moved her hands above her head as he traced his way to cupping her breasts before he ripped open her blouse.

"We—" her open mouth was soon covered by his. The thin lace of her bra tore easily. She responded with the aggressive move with a thrust of her tongue. He moved the material aside as he now cupped her bare breasts. He pinched her right nipple, gently, soliciting a moan. He was rewarded. But he would need incoherence in a greater quantity to meet his objective. He repeated the action as his right hand traveled down her stomach to unbutton her jeans. It was not long before his hand made contact with her most sensitive area. He moved his middle finger lower, into her, lubricating it as he pulled out and began massaging her clit. He pulled away from her mouth as she arched her chest upward and let out a lustful moan. Draco smiled wickedly at his ability. His eyes darkened as he inserted his finger back into her, rotating his hand so his thumb was now circling her clit. The move made her thrust her hips up as she opened her eyes to look at him. He grinned at the sight of her, and bent down to suckle the breast he had just seen bounce with her hip thrust. She groaned and scrunched the sheets with both hands. As he pulled away, she grabbed his hair and pushed him back into her, arching her back in a nonverbal command. Her response gave him immense pleasure, and a power over her he doubted she knew. He complied and suckled once more. He moved his left hand to her back and pulled her tautly to him. She cried out, and ran her hand down his back. Draco stayed in that position, shifting his suckles between her breasts as he massaged her clit, waiting for her lustful addiction to crave more. It did not take as long as he had anticipated. Her hips began to thrust up at a faster pace. He pulled away from her and stood over her half-naked body, stroking himself. She couldn't hold still as she wriggled on the bed before removing the rest of her clothing.

She opened her legs and began masturbating. The sight almost undid him. He climbed between her legs and held her thighs open as he moved her hand with a bite. "Ow!" she exclaimed as she lifted herself to watch him. He met her eyes as he went down on her, slowly circling her walls with his tongue and moving up to repeat the motion on her clit. Hermione was overwhelmed with pleasure and could no longer hold her body upright. Her collapse was his victory. He moved up her body and positioned himself at her opening. Her eyes were shut and her head to the side. He grabbed her face and she opened her eyes as he entered her. "Granger, I am not fucking you tonight." He pulled out and entered her again, smiling at her confused expression. "I'm making love to you tonight." Then he kissed her, to secure a disruption of her thoughts. He thrust into her again, tenderly, and again, pushing as deeply into her as he could. She wrapped her legs around him.

"Feel how well we compliment one another, Love." He moved his hips in a circular motion, stretching her walls. "Feel how your body has to have mine." Draco found his pace and moved his hand from her face. She continued to watch him as he sat up, running his hands across her thighs as he pounded into her. "Feel how you want nothing else at this moment, but what I am giving you." He began massaging her clit and she moaned and closed her eyes. He knew she was close and did not stray from his pattern. Hermione's cry of ecstasy was much louder than any previous cry of pleasure he had caused. He was thankful for the spells he had cast. He thrust into her until her body collapsed and she tapped his shoulder in surrender. He could feel her walls pulsing around his hardened arousal.

She was panting beneath him, although he had done all the work. The image beneath him stole his heart. He wanted this witch. Speechless still, she gave his face a gentle slap and smiled. He knew their truce would not last. When she reclaimed her mind, she would not be so compliant. The conversations to come would challenge him, but now he understood that he could challenge her as well, and the consequence of their struggles did not have to complicate them. This was how it worked between them. It was why they worked.

But that was enough understanding for the moment. He began to move inside her once more, and her strength returned as she sat up in his lap. Draco grinned happily at her desire and pushed her hips into his. He had not yet finished conquering her tonight. He would think more tomorrow.

 **I am amazed how much your reviews feed my writing. Thank you, hoshiakari7, thegirliknow, Guest, and nyanata for your reviews. I appreciate you! White Bishop, I thoroughly enjoyed your review, and can't help but wonder at your line of work. With the exception of abandonment, we share many perspectives on the characters.**


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